


Permanence

by theexhaustedalchemist



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Anxiety, Dead May Parker (Spider-Man), Depressed Peter Parker, Eating Disorders, F/M, Gen, Heavy Angst, Hurt Tony Stark, Hurt/Comfort, Injury Recovery, Irondad, Mentions of Suicide, Panic Attacks, Parent Tony Stark, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Pepper Potts Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker is a Mess, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Recovery, Self-Blame, Self-Hatred, Suicidal Thoughts, Tony Stark survives Endgame
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:35:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 37
Words: 103,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23996116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theexhaustedalchemist/pseuds/theexhaustedalchemist
Summary: At what cost would the snap have on Tony Stark both physically and emotionally? Where Tony Stark survives Endgame, but in very rough shape. Though Pepper is there for him and so is Morgan, the teenage superhero who changes Tony’s life is Peter Parker, who has nobody to take him in after learning about Aunt May’s suicide while he was gone for five years. Tony must learn how to be a parent to a teenager while recovering from his injuries.
Relationships: Pepper Potts & Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe) & Tony Stark, Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe), Peter Parker & Pepper Potts, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 580
Kudos: 700





	1. The Aftermath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! So a couple of notes about this new fic:  
> \- I will try to put trigger warnings ahead of each chapter for what it covers, but be warned, this fic will heavily deal with anxiety, panic attacks, grief after a loved one’s suicide, self hate, past alcoholism, eating disorders, and PTSD, so if any of those are triggers, please please please proceed with caution or don’t read!
> 
> Warning: This chapter contains self hate/blaming, anxiety, and panic attacks

The room’s white walls were lined with empty gray chairs. Two TV monitors hung at opposite sides of the room. They played the local news network, their volume playing at a dull hum. 

Peter paced as doctors came in and out of the waiting room, almost in a sort of sick pattern. Each said something different to the 16 year old superhero, cutting him off with the small bit of information they were permitted to give him about Mr. Stark’s condition. After they would share the minuscule updates that Peter had to piece together to make sense of, they would say, “No, you can’t see him yet.” They must’ve caught on pretty quick to Peter’s singular question. 

His head spun as he tried to keep the facts the doctors were telling him straight with the events that unfolded earlier in the day 

_A blinding flash of light._

The huge amount of energy- 

_Ash immediately began to tear away at the enemies._

His head was exposed -

_Thanos himself finally succumbed to ash._

A skin graft -

_Mr. Stark’s face ran with blood and his armor blackened on the right side leading to where the stones were embedded._

I’m sorry -

_Mr. Stark stumbled forward, and Rhodey rushed and caught him before he could fall to the ground. His head fell back, and Rhodey ejected him from his armor before setting him on the ground._

Surgery didn't usually take this long, did it? What if Mr. Stark didn’t make it out of surgery? It would all be his fault. _This is your fault,_ a small voice whispered. He should’ve done more. He shouldn’t have left Mr. Stark all by himself with Thanos. _You could’ve stopped this. You had the glove. But you’re too weak to have been able to do your one job correctly._ He shouldn’t have - 

He flinched when Karen’s soft voice came on through the mask he still hadn’t taken off, “Peter, my monitors are showing an increased heart rate and a low oxygen in your blood. You’re having a panic attack. Take deep breaths.”

Peter’s hands started to drum against his suit almost by themselves. He wished he could pull at his hair. He needed something to ground himself before he could continue to spiral. _Mr. Stark needs me,_ he thought. _I have to be strong for him. I can’t start to panic now._

“Karen? Can you count for me?”

On missions when Peter was getting nervous, he would ask her this same question and Karen would begin as she did now, softly counting “1, 2, 3, 4,5…” and continue on until Peter told her to stop. 

He focused on the numbers and tried to take deep breaths, ignoring a sharp pain in his right side, as he breathed in the pattern Karen had first told him to breathe in many missions ago. By the time Karen had passed 725, Peter’s breathing had gone back to normal and he felt himself calming back down.

“Thank you Karen. You can stop now.”

“You’re welcome Peter,” Karen’s soft voice replied. 

Peter took a seat as he started feeling weak from exhaustion. The sharp pain was back, and he winced as he tried to position himself in a way where it wouldn’t hurt his side. He hadn’t had time to eat or sleep since the battle with Thanos, and even though he didn’t want to admit it, he needed those things after not having either since long before being turned to dust. Even though being gone for five years didn’t impact any of his food or sleep needs, he hadn’t slept since coming back, and being awake for a full day with no rest before he had vanished did.

“Peter,” Karen began softly, as she had been doing since the end of the battle. “You are extremely sleep deprived and your blood sugar levels are dangerously low. I also detect a broken rib on your right side. Why don’t you-“

“Karen I’m fine. I can’t be here for Mr. Stark if I’m asleep,” Peter said, repeating the same thing as multiple times previously.

“Then-”

“And I’m not leaving to get food either. What if he needs me and I’m gone?”

“According to Ms. Potts’ estimated time of arrival, she will be here in 53 minutes. She finished informing her parents on Mr. Stark’s conditions and said goodbye to her daughter not long ago. After she arrives, I must plead with you that you will get some food and discuss your injury with her.”

“Thank you, Karen,” Peter whispered. It was crazy how Karen knew exactly what to say to reassure Peter he wasn’t going to be alone soon, without him having to ask for that.

“Karen, can you try calling May again? I don’t know why it’s not working,” Peter asked. He’d already tried to call his Aunt three other times, but he never had even made it to voicemail. It was like her number didn’t exist anymore.

Peter heard the dialing of the number before he heard the same message about how the number had been disconnected once again. Why hadn’t May tried looking for him yet? If she had disappeared like him, she would be back and worried about him, right? And if she didn’t, then why did she get a new phone number? 

Peter’s blood went cold as he remembered his conversation with Pepper shortly before he had gotten in the car with Mr. Stark.

_“Peter.” He looked up to see Pepper with tears running down her face, watching as her unconscious husband was lying on the ground with Dr. Strange leaning over him as he strained to help him._

_“I’m sorry about Mr. Stark. I know he’ll be okay,” Peter said quietly, putting his mask down. He pushed down his inner panic that he didn’t know for sure, and that Mr. Stark did not look well. That wouldn’t help Pepper right now._

_“I know,” Pepper said, sighing as she ran a hand over her head. “He’s come back from worse.”_

_“I mean he is the only regular person I know to have survived that much shrapnel in his chest,” Peter said, in an attempt to lighten the mood._

_Pepper just looked down. “Peter, there's something that I need to tell you about May. She...she’s gone.”_

_“I was too Pepper, in case you forgot,” Peter said, with a half smile._

_Before she could respond, Dr. Strange had walked over with a somber expression. “I’m sorry. I did my best, but I could really only stop the internal bleeding. I’m too weak right now to do anything about all the burns he sustained or fix his broken bones. A normal hospital should be able to finish the job.”_

_“Thank you,” Pepper said looking up at him. “I know you did your best.”_

_He nodded at her, before walking towards Bruce where they began to talk in low voices. Pepper walked over to Rhodey, where he was waiting with her husband, who then helped her bring him over to a car that Happy was getting out of. Pepper must’ve called him as soon as the battle was over, knowing that it would be difficult getting her husband anywhere in his damaged suit._

_“I need to go and check on Morgan,” Pepper said to Happy. Peter could easily hear thanks to his heightened senses. “A friend has been watching her back at the house, but I need her to know her dad is going to be okay and that she doesn’t need to be worried. Could you-”_

_“I can take him,” Peter interrupted. “If you get Happy to drive us, I can make sure he gets in okay. I’ll stay in the suit and everything.” This way he could make sure that Mr. Stark was okay. Mr. Stark had to be okay. He had to._

_“Peter, that’s not a good idea, Pepper started with concern. “You don’t look well, and I need you to know that May-”_

_“I know; she was gone. I’ll just call her after I make sure Mr. Stark is okay,” Peter said, already sliding into the car’s backseat next to where Tony was propped up. He could worry about May later. Mr. Stark needed his full attention right now. Rhodey shut the other door, and Peter made a move to shut his as Happy was already in the car, turning it on, but Pepper stopped the door with her hand before dropping it back down by her side._

_“Peter-” she started, but her protests were once again cut off by the teenager closing the door and sliding down the window._

_“I promise that I’ll make sure he gets where he needs to go. You can trust me.”_

_Pepper opened her mouth to reply, but the car had already pulled away._

Peter was jerked out of his thoughts by Karen’s soft voice. “Peter, your heart rate is increasing and your oxygen levels are falling again.”

“K-Karen,” Peter shakily said. “I need you to find me the most recent records on May Parker.”

“The newspaper has an article in the obituary section concerning her from March 13, 2022. Would you like me to read it to you?”

Peter felt tears flooding his eyes, but he had to hear this for himself. He took a deep breath, ignoring the pain that came with it. “Yes.”

“May Parker, aged 49, passed unexpectedly in her Queens home on March 11. She was born January 2, 1973, in New York City, New York. Described by her childhood friends as “kind” and “loving,” she met Ben Parker and moved to Queens with him. After her nephew Peter Parker’s parents died, she and Ben raised him, before her husband soon died unexpectedly. May went on to raise Peter by herself, her friends calling her “diligent” and “persevering” for working multiple jobs to support him. May struggled with depression after the disappearance and suspected passing of Peter. No funeral services will be held, as May wishes to join her husband’s ashes in the Atlantic Sea. In lieu of a service, donations can be made to the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention.”

“Peter?” Karen’s soft voice had been calling his name for the past few minutes, but he hadn’t noticed. “Peter, are you okay?”

Peter couldn’t answer as tears were running down his face. May was gone. Not gone like he had been gone. Gone as in…as in _dead._

“I’m sorry about Ms. Parker,” Karen said softly. “Do I need to alert Ms. Potts?”

He let out a wrecked sob as quietly as he could as he choked out, “N-No, s-she tried t-to tell m-me but I wouldn’t l-listen.” 

_This is all your fault,_ the small voice said. _She’s gone because of you. She thought you were dead. She killed herself because of you. This is all your fault._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the sake of the story, please pretend that May didn’t get turned to ashes like Peter did. 
> 
> I will try to update once every 1-2 weeks! The next chapter might come up earlier as I’m almost done, but I’m not sure! Thank you for reading! I love to hear what you guys think, so please leave a comment if you’d like!:)


	2. Pepper’s Arrival

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pepper Potts arrives at the hospital.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Contains anxiety, panic attacks, thoughts of self-hatred and self-blame. Please proceed with caution if any of these are triggers for you!

“Peter?” He looked up from where he was sitting in the chair, to see Pepper crouching in front him, her face hesitant. 

“Are...are you-”

“I know she’s dead,” Peter interrupted, his eyes dry as he looked down. 

“I’m sorry. You should’ve found out from me,” Pepper looked remorseful, and on top of the awful feeling in his chest, from everything else that was happening including May’s death, he felt guilt rip out his insides, causing him to hold back a gasp from so many emotions.

“No,” he started, breathing heavily. “You tried to tell me. I didn’t listen.”

Pepper’s eyes were wide with alarm. “Are you doing okay? I know you aren’t emotionally, but you sound physically unwell. Can you take off your mask for a second? I promise we’re the only ones in here. I told the front desk attendant to leave and keep everyone from entering this waiting room for a few minutes.”

Peter slowly had his mask melt down, and to her credit, Pepper did her best to hide her face paling in reaction to his roughed appearance. Despite his suit’s armor, helping take down an army had taken its toll. Although his accelerated healing hid the cuts, the blood was still in the places where his injuries had been. He had dried blood underneath his nose, with blood also dried underneath his bottom lip. His hair was matted with sweat and grime, and he had dirt streaked on different patches of his face. But what really had caused Pepper’s breath to catch were his eyes. His eyes were crusted with dried mucus from exhaustion and constant crying. They were bloodshot with massive purple shadows beneath them. A 16 year old shouldn’t have the overwhelming grief that was in his eyes.

“Peter…when was the last time you slept? Or ate anything? Or showered? And are you hurt? Your AI told me something about an injury on the way here.” Peter looked her in the eyes, knowing she knew the answers to those questions, but she was hoping to be wrong. 

“That’s not important. What’s important is that I’m here for Mr. Stark. I can’t do that if I’m asleep or eating or-”

“Peter. I’m here now. Are you hurt?” Pepper asked again, her voice a little firmer. 

Peter rushed out, “I probably look worse than I am, really. I have accelerated healing, remember?” He tried to play it off like a joke, but Pepper just frowned.

“Wouldn’t that be impacted if you haven’t been sleeping or eating?”

Peter blushed, mumbling, “Yes.”

“Where are you hurt?” she asked, trying to get something out of him by rephrasing the question.

“Well I have a broken rib, but-”

“You have a broken rib?” Pepper exclaimed, her worry amplified.

“That’s what Karen said, but-”

“And you haven’t checked yourself into this hospital yet?”

“But it’ll heal soon! Really! As soon as I eat-”

“Your AI told me that you promised you’d eat when I got here. If your healing will work as soon as you eat, then I need you to either go eat, or go check yourself into this hospital. Preferably both.”

Peter quickly said, “I’ll go eat.”

“I promise I’ll let you know if anything changes or if Tony’s ready for visitors.”

The mention of Mr. Stark snapped him back to why he couldn’t eat. The look on her face was well meaning, but if Peter left and Mr. Stark...he couldn’t handle the thought of another death being his fault. 

“I-I can’t leave-”

“Please Peter. Go down to the cafeteria and get some food. I suspect that once Child Protective Services knows Peter Parker is back from disappearing for five years and can process what that means, they’ll send someone.” She held out a twenty dollar bill to him with an anguished look in her eyes. He could do that for Pepper. He could do what she wanted him to do. He’d only be gone for a few minutes. Everything would be fine. 

He took the money from her, whispering, “Thank you” as his mask came back on. He walked out the door and was almost to the cafeteria, when an awful pain felt like it was twisting his intestines, which he knew wasn’t from his injury.  _ It wasn’t long after you hugged Mr. Stark that he was almost killed,  _ the voice hissed. _ A few minutes can make a huge difference. What if he’s dying right now, and you can’t save him, just like you couldn’t save May? _

He collapsed to the floor outside the entrance to the cafeteria, the sharp pain from his ribs coming back, breathing rapidly. He had to get back up there. Why was he being so selfish and trying to eat at a time like this?

“Peter? I’m going to alert Ms. Pott’s of your heightened state of arousal and send her here.”

Peter couldn’t protest, trying to control his breathing as his thoughts continued to spiral.  _ You think Pepper is going to care about you? It’s your fault that Mr. Stark is hurt. It’s your- _

“Peter?” He could hear Pepper’s voice, but his eyes were squeezed shut as he tried to count in his mind, trying to stop his thoughts from hurling forward without his control.

“I think your AI’s name is Karen,” Pepper said under her breath. “Karen, what’s going on with him?” 

“He is having another panic attack, ma’am.”

“Oh,” Pepper said, with a gentler tone. “Peter? Concentrate on my voice.” 

Now Pepper was here instead of waiting for news about her husband. He was so pathetic that he couldn’t keep it together to do what she asked for five minutes.

“Peter?” He could hear her calling out to him quietly again, but he couldn’t reply. He couldn’t even get a handle on his breathing.  _ Pathetic.  _ “Karen, is this the first time this has happened?”

“Today, he has experienced one full panic attack and was on the verge of a second one prior to this one.”

“How did he stop having one previously?”

“Peter asked me to count for him.”

“Can you do that, please?”

Peter could hear Karen’s voice quietly start to count in a soothing tone. He forced himself to concentrate on the numbers, and felt his breathing gradually start to slow down. He forced open his eyes, seeing Pepper crouched in front of him with tears in her eyes.  _ Look, you just made her worry more. _

Peter ignored the voice inside his head as he croaked out, “I-I’m sorry.”

He jumped a little in surprise as Pepper’s arms came around him, gently hugging him. “You have nothing to be sorry for,” she said quietly.

He hesitantly lifted his arms and hugged her back, clinging onto the feeling as he didn’t know when he would get to experience that again. 

After a few minutes, he let go and she stood up, helping him up as she walked with him to the cafeteria. 

_ She’s wasting her time. She’s going to miss something important because you couldn’t do one thing right.  _

“P-Pepper? You don’t h-have to do t-this,” Peter tried saying, his voice still shaky. 

“I want to. I need something to eat too,” she said, waving off his concerns as she kept an arm around his shoulders. He didn’t want to admit how dizzy he was and just how much he needed her help. 

Peter handed the money back to Pepper as she helped him into the cafeteria and into a line. Expectedly, the staff had wide eyes and awed expressions at  _ the  _ Pepper Potts and Spider-Man in their line. Peter grabbed a random sandwich without looking at it. Pepper put that on a tray along with three more sandwiches, three bags of chips, four cookies, a few waters, and a black coffee, and brought that up to the register. She asked the worker in a low voice, “Is there somewhere we can eat in private?”

The worker responded, pointing to an empty staff break room at the far end of the cafeteria. Pepper held the tray with one hand, held Peter up with the other, and kept her head high as she walked over to the break room, ignoring the stares they got from the other visitors.

Once inside and after setting the tray on one of the tables, Pepper locked the door and pulled down the blinds. The room was a decent size, with several round tan tables and colorful plastic chairs. There was a unisex one-person bathroom in the corner, and the room had signs with “inspirational messages” plastered about.

Pepper reached into her purse and pulled out red fabric, before Peter realized it was another one of his fabric suits, just like the one that he’d forgotten was beneath his metal suit. Pepper started slowly, as if she were expecting a battle, “I know you can’t change into normal clothes because that would risk your secret identity. But this one must be more comfortable than the one you’re wearing. I know you have on one of these beneath that metal casing, but I can’t imagine it would be in good condition after five years. Tony keeps a few extra at our house,” she added, when she noticed Peter’s slightly confused expression.

Peter nodded, taking the suit from her and heading towards the bathroom. His old suit that was beneath the metal seemed attached to it somehow, and he wasn’t sure he could only take off the metal casing without removing the entire suit unless he had Mr. Stark’s help.

“Peter?”

Peter turned to see her smiling slightly. “Please at least try to wash some of that blood and dirt off of your face while you’re in there. Tony would freak out if that’s the way your face looked when he wakes up.”

He turned back around after giving her a weak smile, going into the bathroom and shutting the door behind him. He slowly changed, his muscles sore and his rib still broken as he pulled on the familiar suit. He did as Pepper instructed, even taking some time to try and make his hair less matted with his fingers and some water. When he was done, he looked into the mirror for the first time since before his disappearance.

His face was sickly pale, the healing bruises on his face an ugly contrast of green and purple. He had purple bags underneath his tired and red eyes. His attempts to fix his hair led to some of it weighed down and wet while other parts stuck up.  _ It figures,  _ the voice snarled.  _ This makes sense for someone as pathetic as you. _ He tried to ignore the voice as his legs shook. He gripped the edges of the sink and tried to keep himself from crying again as the voice carried on.  _ Why do you think you deserve Pepper’s kindness? She’s supposed to be with her husband and instead she’s here, babysitting you like you’re a little kid again. You’re wea- _

Peter jumped as he heard a light knock on the door. Pepper’s voice called, “Peter? Are you okay in there?”

He needed to get a grip. He cleared his throat. “Y-Yeah I’m almost done.” He turned on the water for a second, before turning it back off so Pepper wouldn’t be suspicious about how silent the bathroom was. He then picked up the old suit, which was surprisingly lightweight. He was able to fold it over his arm, despite the metal, and opened the bathroom door.

Pepper was seated at a table, tapping on her phone with the food untouched in front of her. Peter gulped down the gnawing feeling in his gut, the one whispering,  _ She’s so busy and you’re distracting her  _ and  _ She must be starving and had to wait for you to get done with your mental breakdown to be polite  _ as he took a seat across from her. She immediately put her phone face down on the table next to her and began taking food from the tray. She took one of the sandwiches, one bag of chips, two cookies, and one bottle of water, with the coffee already at her side, little black drops collecting on the edges of the lid. She then proceeded to push the tray with the remaining mountain of food towards him as she unwrapped her sandwich. 

She was about to take a bite when she saw Peter staring at the tray of food in front of him, a gobsmacked look on his face. “Peter, you better eat most, if not all of it. Tony’s talked to me about how your metabolism is off the charts, so I expect to see this famous appetite of yours.” She smiled at him, attempting to crack any sort of smile out of him. 

He smiled weakly as he slowly unwrapped a sandwich and took a bite, pushing aside the fact that he had no appetite. His body betrayed him, and he soon felt a raging sense of hunger as he tried to eat at a moderate pace while his body was screaming at him to eat faster; he hadn’t eaten in years. 

By the time Peter had moved onto his second sandwich after finishing the first, two bags of chips, and a cookie, Pepper was done, looking as if she wanted to say something. She had kept silent for most of the meal, but Peter knew that was about to change.

“Peter,” she started slowly, carefully choosing her words. “Karen told me that you’ve had some problems with anxiety since being at the hospital.”

When Peter didn’t respond, she took a sip of her coffee before continuing. “I just wanted to know if there was anything I can do to ease that at all. I wish that I could send you to the cabin to stay with Morgan while we sort this all out, but I think it’s best to keep you in one place.”

Peter knew that meant he would have to face the reality of what it meant when May wasn’t here, but he desperately needed more time to focus on anything but that. He realized that Pepper expected a response, but he didn’t know how to answer her.  _ She knows how pathetic you are. She feels sorry for the teenager who is now homeless. She can’t help you. You’re already weak enough as it is.  _

“N-no,” Peter stuttered out. “I’m fine.”

Pepper narrowed her eyes, seeing past his lie, and was about to speak when her phone began to ring. 

She swiped her finger across it and held it up to her ear. 

“Hello? This is Pepper Potts.”

He watched as she sat for a moment, her face tense as his super hearing picked up what sounded like Mr. Stark’s name. Then her face melted with relief, as tears came to her eyes. 

“Thank you,” she replied. “I’ll be there soon. Yes. Goodbye.” 

She hung up the phone and reached down to get her purse off the ground. She put it in her bag along with the food Peter hadn’t eaten. She stood up, taking the suit Peter left on the table and slinging it over her arm, putting her purse on her shoulder. She motioned for Peter to follow her, so he got up as quickly as his broken rib would allow him and grabbed the tray, dumping in in the trash on the way out and quickly pulling his mask on. Pepper stopped for a second and looked at Peter, tears falling as she smiled. She pulled him into a gentle hug and whispered in his ear, “Tony made it out of surgery. We can finally go see him.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there’s chapter 2! I promise that Tony will come in real soon, but I love the idea of Pepper being a mom for Peter, so I wanted to start to develop that! Expect chapter 3 in about a week! I have some tests coming up, so I apologize in advance if it’s a little longer than that.
> 
> What’s going to happen to Peter, who doesn’t have anyone to take care of him? Is Tony okay? And will baby Peter finally stop having those awful thoughts (spoiler alert: not yet!) 
> 
> Thank you for reading! I love to hear what you guys think, so please leave a comment if you’d like:)


	3. Mr. Stark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter contains anxiety, panic attacks, low self worth, and self blame

“I’m sorry. But unless Spider-Man is immediate family, he has to remain in the waiting room.”

Peter felt his heart drop in his chest. He couldn’t even peek in to make sure Mr. Stark was okay? Pepper turned her head and looked Peter in the eyes.  _ Trust me _ , she mouthed, her eyes softening. Her usual disciplined expression reappeared as she turned back to face the nurse, and she said without looking at him again, “Spider-Man, please go take a seat for a second.”

Peter turned and walked away, wanting to stay close enough to where he could hear what Pepper was saying, so he remained just close enough that his super hearing could pick it up.

He could tell that Pepper was speaking softly, but with a tense tone. She said, “Spider-Man is close to Tony. He needs to be there for him.”

“Is he immediate family? And I’m sorry Ms. Potts, but how can I trust your word on this if I don’t know who Spider-Man is?”

He couldn’t understand what Pepper said next, but he saw the nurse’s face pale and heard her stutter out, “Y-Yes ma’am.”

Pepper turned back to him, and she said, “Let’s go.”

He wasn’t sure what Pepper had said to change the stern nurse’s mind, but he was glad that he was on the business woman's good side.

The nurse led them down the hallway. The lights beat down on him, causing him to squint to dim their harshness. The air smelled like antiseptic, the scent he knew far too well from countless injuries from being Spider-Man. He was thankful for the hundredth time that he had his suit on, as he couldn’t imagine how overloaded his senses would be if he didn’t have on the mask. He forced his breathing to remain stable as the nurse stopped in front of a door marked  _ 105B _ . He shook slightly as she opened it and walked in. He forced himself to step over the threshold into Mr. Stark’s room. 

He felt dizzy looking at his mentor. The familiar face that he knew so well was covered in white bandages. Only the center of the face was exposed. His eyes were closed, his nose purple and crooked, and a ventilator was covering his mouth. Peter forced himself to scan the rest of Mr. Stark’s body. His heart dropped as he saw the same white bandages surrounding the rest of his upper body. Blankets covered his lower body, so Peter could only imagine the injuries he sustained there. As there weren’t bandages covering his left arm, dark purple bruises were apparent, littering the skin. There were tubes attached to his hand, the one that hadn’t had the stones, and they were attached to numerous sacs that held different colors of liquid. 

This is what Mr. Stark looked like  _ after  _ Dr. Strange had helped him.

_ Look at him. This is all your fault. If only you had succeeded in keeping away the gauntlet from Thanos, then this never would’ve happened.  _

Peter pushed down the bile that was rising in his throat, sitting down roughly in one of the chairs that was next to the bed, ignoring the pain still prevalent in his side. He couldn’t let himself go into another panic attack. He had to be strong. 

The guilt felt like a black pool of acid, collecting in his lungs, in his stomach. It clenched at his heart, as it seemed to whisper to him,  _ But you’re really not that strong, are you? You were taken down easily in every fight with the Avengers. Remember Germany? Pathetic. Mr. Stark doesn’t want you here. He’s just going to blame you. After all, it’s your fault May’s dead. _

Mr. Stark didn’t need him here. It was his fault he was injured. May’s death was his fault. He tried to rise from his seat, but he found himself frozen. He screamed inside his mind, that he needed to leave before Mr. Stark woke up, he needed to get out of this place with the too bright lights and the white walls.

Distantly, he heard Pepper’s voice through the fog in his mind. “What happened? Are you okay? Karen, count please.”

The soft voice of his AI began to clear his head, the guilt retreating like a reigned in bull back to his stomach.

He looked up at Pepper, so she knew he was back, but didn’t speak. She was seated next to him, the nurse still in the room, confusion on her face.

“Could you leave us alone please?” Pepper asked the nurse.

The nurse looked like she was about to protest, before she closed her mouth and turned and walked out of the room.

“Peter? What’s going on? You’ve got to talk to me.”

He took a deep breath, wanting to tell her about the voice that hissed, but after glancing back at Mr. Stark, he realized he couldn’t do that to her. 

“I’m sorry. Hospitals sometimes make me nervous,” he lied.

“Do you need to wait somewhere else?” Pepper asked, her face drawn with worry.

“No, I’m okay. That’s what my earlier episode was about too. It was just a reaction to being in a hospital and now a hospital room,” he said, forcing a small smile. Although he felt better that he was easing Pepper’s worries, he couldn’t help but feel the guilt sinking his stomach lower and lower at lying to her. He couldn’t have her worried about him. He already was too much of a burden to her. She didn’t want to have to watch a moody teenager while her husband was in the hospital.

“Are you sure?” Pepper asked, her eyebrows furrowing slightly. 

“Yeah. So I overheard that you have a daughter now?” Peter asked, quickly changing the topic.

Pepper’s eyes softened. “Her name is Morgan. She’s who I went to check on before coming here. Peter, you would love her.”

Peter let himself be lulled by Pepper’s soft voice, telling him about her daughter. She and Mr. Stark were together again and they had a kid. They had a kid together in the 5 years that Peter had been gone.

_ All you’re doing is invading their family by being here.  _ The voice was back, whispering in Peter’s ear as Pepper continued to talk about a funny thing Morgan had done a few months ago. He pushed it back down, trying to refocus on what Pepper had been saying.

“Isn’t that funny?” she asked him, her mouth quirked up slightly. He nodded, and suddenly her eyes widened and she said, “I’m sorry. I get carried away talking about her. Peter, we need to discuss what happens after Tony gets out of the hospital.”

Before she could continue, the door was opening. Pepper shut her mouth, pursing her lips as a woman with short, dark red hair stepped into the room.

“You must be the family of Mr. Stark. My name is Dr. Green.” She looked Pepper in the eyes, before glancing at Peter. The confusion was apparent on her face before she quickly masked it. 

“I’m going to give you a rundown of Mr. Stark’s injuries. Is everyone here that should be?” Peter felt her hazel eyes boring down on him, but Pepper quickly said, “Yes. Please continue.”

“Starting from bottom to top. He has a broken pelvic bone and many of the bones in his right hand and arm are shattered. He also has extensive third degree burns all along the right side of his body, along with probable nerve damage, although we won’t know for sure the extent of this damage until he wakes up. Finally, he has a broken nose. Ms. Potts, your husband is lucky to have survived.”

Pepper looked like she was about to speak, but Dr. Green interrupted. “There’s one more thing. He has what appears to be some sort of serious infection spreading from his right hand up, killing the tissue as it goes. We’ve never seen anything like it before. Do you know what the source of this could be?”

Pepper’s face paled and Peter could see her hands shaking where they gripped the armrests of her chair. “It’s from the fight he was in. There was a huge amount of energy in his right hand.”

“So it’s not from some sort of disease. I already had that in my notes from Spider-Man’s account of what happened, but I was afraid he might’ve missed something. Basically, this ‘energy’ as you called it, gave some sort of byproduct to Mr. Stark, giving him gangrene in his arm.”

She walked over to a laptop that was sitting on a standing desk and typed for a second after unlocking it. She then brought it over and held it out for Pepper and Peter to see. On it was an image of an arm. Peter couldn't see anything special about it.

“This is what a healthy arm looks like,” she said, pointing to the screen. “This CT scan is what Mr. Stark’s arm looks like,” she continued, switching the picture. This picture was frightening. The bones were all shattered, which Peter was expecting. But it looked eerily empty in a way he couldn’t describe.

“The tissue in his arm is dead. Because this is something that nobody in the medical field will have experienced, I can offer my recommendation based on how this compares to other gangrene. His best bet is to have his arm amputated.”

Peter’s blood ran cold, and the doctor’s voice seemed far away and muffled as his brain tried to process this information. Amputated? But didn’t Dr. Strange fix anything life threatening?

He finally managed to speak, “P-Pepper? We n-need to get Dr. Strange h-here.”

She looked at him, tears in her eyes and nodded. Dr. Green looked confused. “Did you have another professional that you wanted a second opinion from?”

Pepper said, “Something like that,” as she took out her phone and walked out of the room after looking at Peter. 

With just Dr. Green and him in the room, she looked at him awkwardly and said, “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

She walked to the door, opening and closing it softly behind her. He was alone in the room with Mr. Stark. 

He moved his chair slightly forward, his hands drumming on the armrest. He didn’t think Mr. Stark could hear him, but maybe it would be better to talk to him than sitting in complete silence.

“Mr. Stark?” he softly said, looking at what was showing from all the bandages on his face. “I-I know you can’t hear me, but I...I really need y-you. She’s dead. And...it’s all my fa-“ he choked on his words, as he felt his cheeks dampen. He sniffed and hesitantly placed his hand on the bed next to Mr. Stark’s covered hand. It was close enough.

He quickly retracted his hand as he heard footsteps approaching the door again. He forced the tears to stop leaking from his eyes as Pepper walked back in. He was extremely thankful that his mask covered his expression. He didn’t think he could hide how anguished he was.

Pepper sat back down next to him, her face looking a little less pale than when she had left. “I called Stephen,” she said, placing her phone on her lap and looking at Peter. “He’s not sure what he can do, as he’s still pretty weak, but he’s coming here right now.” As soon as she finished, a portal opened up, and Dr. Strange stepped out. He didn’t look weak to Peter. He looked much better than after the fight with Thanos. There wasn’t any dirt or blood on his face anymore, and his clothes were no longer filthy. 

Did he really do the best he could at healing Mr. Stark? Because he sure didn’t look too weak to fix him. Peter had to suppress the bubbling anger he felt in his skin as he forced himself to stay quiet. 

“Thank you Stephen,” Pepper said, relief apparent on her face as she stood up to go talk to him. She told him what Dr. Green had said about his arm and the energy still in it. Dr. Strange frowned as he examined Mr. Stark. A nurse began to open the door and walk in, but a quick glance from Pepper had her turning back around, closing the door behind her.

“From what I can tell, Dr. Green’s theory is correct. The energy from the stones destroyed his tissue in his hand immediately, and it’s working its way up his arm.” 

He looked down for a second, before meeting Pepper’s eyes. “I’m sorry Pepper. But I agree with Dr. Green. The only way that we could potentially fix this would be with the stones, to try and somehow get the energy reabsorbed. But that would take a few days for me to figure out a safe way to do that and to have enough strength to do it. And at this rate, unless his arm is amputated immediately, the energy will spread past his arm and kill the rest of his living tissue.”

Peter felt bile rise to his throat and pushed it down. “Dr…umm Dr. Strange? Why couldn’t you fix this before? Isn’t this life threatening?” Peter did his best to keep his anger in check, but he heard it rear in the harshness of his tone.

Dr. Strange looked at him with a cold expression, but Peter saw it soften after a second. “I know you’re concerned. But I fixed as much as I could. And frankly, Tony wouldn’t be here if I hadn’t helped.”

Peter felt his cheeks redden. He wasn’t trying to make a powerful enemy. “I-I’m sorry Dr. Strange sir.”

Dr. Strange nodded, before explaining further. “I would try to do the amputation, but I don’t think I could do something that strenuous. But I’ll be here in case there’s an energy surge to contain it.”

“Wait. Could Mr. Stark explode?” Peter asked, his eyes wide and heart pounding.

“No, there’s not enough energy there. It should just dissipate. Most likely the worst case scenario with the energy would be a power outage, and in a hospital that can be dangerous.”

Pepper was quiet throughout this exchange, and Peter could see her hands quivering by her sides. He took her hand and squeezed it, and he saw her look up in surprise with tears in her eyes. She quickly blinked them away, letting go of Peter’s, back to being the image of professionalism. 

“Thank you Stephen. I’ll get Dr. Green in here and give her my consent for the surgery.” 

Dr. Strange nodded as Pepper pressed the help button on the side of Mr. Stark’s bed. In less than a minute a nurse was in the room, and departed again after Pepper informed him of the situation. 

Dr. Green came back in the room a few minutes later, having seemingly immaculate posture and holding her head high with a clipboard in her hand. “Ms. Potts, I hear that you’ve come to the decision to go ahead with the surgery?”

“Yes. But Dr. Strange needs to be in there to oversee the amp-...surgery and make sure there’s no complications with the energy.”

Dr. Green started to object, but Dr. Strange pulled out a note from his pocket and handed it to her. Her face reddened as she then said, “Okay. Mr. Stark will be leaving immediately.”

Dr. Green went out into the hallway to instruct the nurses to bring him to the surgery wing. Peter saw Pepper take the opportunity to place a gentle hand on her husband’s right arm for the last time. He felt tears spring to his eyes, but forced them back. If Pepper could stay strong right now, so could he. 

He watched as she bowed her head and saw drops fall onto Mr. Stark’s bandaged arm. He looked up in surprise to see tears running freely down her face as she whispered something low enough even Peter couldn’t hear. He felt his own tears come back as he rose from his chair to stand next to her. 

_ This is the last time you’ll see Mr. Stark whole, and it’s all your fault. What if he dies in surgery? Then you’ll have no one left. _

Peter held back a sob as he and Pepper were forced to move away from the bed as nurses started the process of moving him. He watched as they wheeled Mr. Stark down the hall, his hands clenched as he felt his teeth dig into his bottom lip.

_ You’ll have no one left. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally news about Tony’s injuries! I’m sorry if I got anything wrong in terms of medical terms or anything like that. Google was my helper in writing this chapter! 
> 
> Will the amputation go well? Where’s Peter going after they leave the hospital? Is Peter finally going to talk to someone about his deteriorating mental state? 
> 
> The next chapter will be posted in the next few days! It’s almost done, so I should have it posted before next week:) Thank you so much for reading! I love to hear what you guys think, so leave a comment if you’d like! :)


	4. Finding a home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m going to start putting the trigger warnings at the end, so I don’t spoil anything in the chapter! So go to the end to see TW

_Peter looked around, confused. He was on Titan, and they were about to fight Thanos, but he couldn’t find Mr. Stark anywhere. He tried to call out for him, but his voice wouldn’t work._

_He looked out across the desolated landscape, trying to find his mentor. He saw all of the new heroes that were called “The Protectors of Space” or something like that. He saw the girl that was a part of them that had antenna on her head, talking to the big gray guy. But there was no sign of Mr. Stark._

_He tried to move his feet, but it was like they were stuck to the ground. Suddenly, he heard big booming footsteps._

_Thanos. The big purple scary alien was walking towards him. He was going to kill him. Peter tried to move, tried to scream out for help, but Thanos was coming. The gauntlet was raised, and Peter held up his arms to shield his face-_

_But the blow never came. Mr. Stark, without his Iron Man suit, had jumped in front of him, and was about to absorb the purple energy that was headed toward Peter._

_No! Peter tried to move him out of the way, but his arms were stuck suddenly by his sides, and he couldn’t do anything but watch as the energy ripped into Mr. Stark. He couldn’t scream. He couldn’t move as his mentor turned around and faced Peter, horror frozen on his face as he started to turn to dust-_

“Peter?”

His head jerked up. He looked around wildly. Mr. Stark was there. He couldn’t save him. He-

“Peter!” He felt a hand on his shoulder and looked over to see Pepper’s weary eyes wide with concern. “It was only a dream. It’s okay.”

He put his fists to his where his masked eyes were and pressed hard. “W-What‘s happening?” he asked, his voice feeling thick in his throat. He was infinitely glad that the mask hid the guaranteed panicked expression on his face and the tears that were leaking out of his eyes as he took deep breaths to slow his breathing down. He didn’t need to have another panic attack in front of Pepper.

Pepper looked more exhausted than the last time he saw her. He wasn’t sure how long ago that was. “Tony’s in surgery, remember? We had to go back out to the waiting room, and you were so frazzled by it all I guess your body must’ve shut down. You’ve been asleep for the past ten hours.”

Ten hours? _You’re supposed to be watching over Mr. Stark. How can you do that if you fall asleep? You can’t even do a single thing right, can you?_

Peter felt his eyes sting. “I’m s-sorry. I didn’t m-mean-”

“Peter. It’s okay. The only thing that you missed is that a nurse was here just before you woke up and told me they estimate that there’s about an hour left. I mean, Rhodey visited, but he had to go take care of a few business related things, even though he’d rather be here for Tony. He’ll be back, though.”

Peter nodded. He still shouldn’t have fallen asleep. That was sloppy of him. 

Pepper looked at him, before asking softly, “Is your rib better?”

He frowned as he took a few deep breaths and felt at his side. He nodded, and Pepper smiled faintly. 

“See how important food and rest are?”

Peter was about to reply, when his cell phone started to ring. He pulled his mask up just enough where his mouth was free, and answered the call.

“Hello?” 

“Is this Peter Parker?” asked a smooth female voice. Instantly, his mind ran back to what Pepper had said about the consequences of losing his caregiver. 

He took a deep breath, trying to keep himself from panicking. “Yes.”

“This is Erin from Child Protective Services. Did you recently return from being gone for five years?”

Peter wanted to laugh at how scripted it all sounded in a sort of ironical way. “Yes.”

“Mr. Parker, if you are not aware, I must inform you with deep regret that your primary caregiver, May Parker, is deceased.”

Peter felt tears spring to his eyes. He had been hoping that the newspaper and Pepper were playing some sort of sick prank on him, and that May was going to call any second that she was worried about him. 

“I...I know,” he said, holding back a sob.

“Mr. Parker, as you are not of 18 years of age, I need to discuss with you your plans of residency until then. Where are you located currently? We’ve already checked Ms. Parker’s old home and could not find you.”

“I...I-” He could see Pepper looking at him with concern in her eyes. What reason would Peter Parker have to be with someone like Pepper Potts at a hospital? His identity could be jeopardized if Erin came here. 

“What’s going on?” Pepper asked softly, as Peter’s chest began to heave with indecision. 

He quickly said, “One moment please,” to Erin and muted the call. 

“It’s...It-...They’re coming to take me,” Peter sobbed, finally breaking. He felt a hand on his back as he cried into his hands, the tears trapped beneath his mask.

“Is it CPS?” Pepper asked quietly. Peter nodded silently. “Tell them to come here.”

“But-”

“It’ll be okay, Peter. I promise I have a plan.”

He nodded, unmuting it and bringing the phone back up to his ear, his hand shaking. He gave her the address to the hospital, and hung up the phone after she promised she’d be there soon after he affirmed that he wasn’t hurt.

“Pepper, I’m-”

“Tony knew May died too, Peter. Once we knew there was a possibility that we could get you back, it was too late. May-” she paused for a moment, before looking him in the eyes and continuing, “was already gone. This decision is ultimately up to you. You can choose to live with another relative,” she said, her face sympathetic as Peter shook his head slightly. “Or you can choose to go into foster care. But we want you to come with us, Peter.”

Peter looked at her in surprise. “You do?”

Pepper nodded, giving him a small, but genuine smile. “I know we aren’t a replacement for May, and we aren’t trying to be, but yes.”

Peter felt himself smile genuinely for the first time since seeing Mr. Stark hurt. He suddenly felt shy, timidly nodding. Pepper looked relieved as she leaned over and gave him a gentle hug. 

_She’s just taking pity on you. It would look bad if she didn’t offer. She doesn’t really want you to come home with her._

He pushed away the voice, but felt it lurking in the depths, as he tried to ignore the anxiety churning inside of him. “But...what are we going to tell CPS?”

“You have an ‘internship’ with Tony. I think that could explain your close relationship to us.”

Peter felt warmth spread through him, toppling the cold momentarily and nodded. 

“Peter? Tony can’t be here for you right now, but I can. I’m sorry about May. I really am. If you want to talk, or need anything - regarding her, your panic attacks, your dreams - I’m here.”

The softness and genuine kindness in Pepper’s face was almost too much. He almost lost it, but resisted the pull to let her hold him like he was little again, because the pull from that darkness deep within his stomach was stronger.

“Thank you. Can you tell me more about Morgan?”

She smiled, but looked slightly disappointed. They passed time with stories about the littlest Stark, who sounded like she was just like her father. Pepper got a few smiles out of him, and even an abrupt laugh when she told him of the time that she had threatened to run away and join the Avengers because she wanted another cookie.

Pepper looked down at her watch after a few minutes, and looked up at Peter in alarm. “CPS should be here any minute now. You better go change quickly out of your suit.”

“But I don’t-” 

Clothes were thrusted into his arms and he quickly made his way to the bathroom, looking around to confirm what he already knew, that he and Pepper were alone in the waiting room. The nurse wasn’t even at the front desk. He closed and locked the door, taking off his suit quickly and putting on the clothes Pepper had given him. He meant to take a quick glance in the mirror, but was stopped in his tracks by the sheer contrast of the clothes meant for a teenager and the new, hopefully temporary maturity he felt from the events of the past few days. He was wearing normal tennis shoes, jeans (with the cuffs rolled), and a T-shirt with the periodic table on it. He realized suddenly that these were _his_ clothes. How did Pepper get a hold of them?

He put the suit into the drawstring bag that Pepper had handed to him. He slung it over his back, walking out of the bathroom like he wasn’t a teenage vigilante who had just participated in a battle to save the entire universe. 

Pepper took the bag from him, placing it in her purse that was almost as large as a duffle bag, as he took a seat on the opposite side of where he had sat as Spider-Man. 

Just as he had sat down again, the doors opened and a woman with shoulder length blond hair stepped into the room. Peter immediately knew she worked for the government, due to the crispness of her white button down under her black blazer. She wore black heels that would not be appropriate for someone visiting a relative, and a black pencil skirt that looked uncomfortable to sit in. She walked over to them, a black handbag slung over her shoulder, and looked Peter up and down. He thought he saw a pinch of disapproval at the sight of his slightly messy hair, and definitely exhausted appearance. 

She held out her hand to him, and he took it. She squeezed his hand hard as she shook it. “Hello, are you Mr. Peter Parker? My name is Erin Johnson. I’m who you talked to earlier from Child Protective Services.”

He was tempted to say no, just to wipe the egotistical expression off of her face, but he just nodded. 

“Excellent.” She sat down in the chair that was across from Peter, and he had to force himself to look up and meet her stormy blue eyes. She didn’t acknowledge Pepper once, and Peter wondered if Erin even noticed that she was there.

“I’m sorry for your loss, Mr. Parker. But we need to discuss your options now for moving forward. Do you have any relatives that you could stay with?”

Peter shook his head, glancing at Pepper before looking back at Erin. She pulled out a clipboard out of her bag, and wrote something down.

“Your other options are to either get placed in the foster care system, or if there is another person, perhaps a family friend that you could stay with. Is there a person that you have in mind?”

Peter nodded, before taking a deep breath and speaking. “I’d like to stay with Pepper Potts and Tony Stark.”

Erin looked at him doubtfully, with humor in her expression, like she was attempting to keep herself from laughing. “Mr. Parker, do you have a serious option? I hear lots of children say they’d like to stay with a billionaire, but unfortunately, they usually aren’t taking in foster kids.”

“I think I can attest that this is a serious option.” Pepper spoke for the first time, holding out her hand. Her face was stern, and Peter could tell she was making her best attempt to be civil. “My name is Pepper Potts. And my husband and I would like to be Peter’s guardians.”

Peter wished he could take a picture of Erin’s face. Her mouth opened slightly as she took Pepper’s hand, her eyes wide. She must not have recognized one of the most powerful business women in the world. 

“M-Ms. Potts! Are you sure? I can’t see how you would know this boy from Queens.”

Pepper’s mouth formed a tense line before she said, “We’re sure. Peter is Tony’s intern, so we know him very well.”

Erin began to talk to Pepper about the technicalities, and Peter was quickly lost. After a few minutes of things Peter didn’t understand, Erin stood up and shook Pepper’s hand. “Thank you Ms. Potts, I’ll come by for a home visit in the coming weeks.”

Pepper nodded, a tight smile on her face. “Take care.”

Erin left with one final glance towards Peter, as if she couldn’t believe one of the richest people in the world would take in someone like him. As soon as she was out of the waiting room, Pepper sighed. 

“I’m sorry Peter. I wanted to put her in her place, but I didn't want to jeopardize her willingness to let you come with us.”

“I-It’s okay Pepper,” Peter said, swallowing thickly. He didn’t know why Pepper and Mr. Stark would want to take him either, but he didn’t have anywhere else to go, and he wasn’t going to pass it up for foster care. He couldn’t mess this up. “Where...where is home? The Avengers complex is ruined, but it doesn’t sound like you and Mr. Stark and Morgan lived there anyway.”

Pepper smiled softly. “We have a cabin a little ways outside the city.” Her smile faded away after a second. “Although, I’m not sure if that will work with everything that’s happened. Once Tony’s out of surgery and awake, that’s a conversation I’m not looking forward to having.”

Almost like clockwork, that was the moment Dr. Green came through the door and into the waiting room, confusion crossing her face when she saw Peter.

“Where’s Spider-Man?” 

“He had to leave. Unfortunately, he needed to get back to his family, but I promised to give him updates.”

The doctor shrugged and said, “Tony is out of surgery and he’s doing well. His vitals are all good, and currently there’s no more dead tissue past the amputation point, but we’ll continue to monitor that. You are free to come back and see him, but remember it’s family only.”

Pepper nodded and stood up. Dr. Green pursed her lips when Peter stood up as well, but didn’t say anything. There was no use to try to win against someone as determined as Pepper Potts.

Once again, they were led down the hall of bright lights and antiseptic, but this time Peter didn’t have his mask to mute the stimuli. He felt dizzy walking down the hall, his senses trying to focus on everything that was coming in. Pepper looked over at him, and put an arm around him. He leaned on her as they made their way down the hall, but it would seem to any passerby that she was just consoling him. 

Once again, they were led to room _105B_ , the numbers seeming to bore down on him. Dr. Green opened the door, and Peter heard Pepper let out a gasp, despite knowing what they would see.

The exposed skin on Mr. Stark’s face looked paler than last time, and Peter saw that there was a sack of blood now also connected to him. Everything else looked pretty much the same; his bandages were still there, he still had the same bruises on his left arm, but it at least looked as though he just had on a normal oxygen mask instead of intubation. Dr. Strange stood on the other side of Mr. Stark, looking at a clipboard. But where Mr. Stark’s right arm should’ve been was a stub covered in bandages. 

It was phantom, and Peter felt that if he blinked or pinched himself the illusion would clear and Mr. Stark’s arm would be there, just as it always was. But no matter how many times he squeezed his eyes shut and opened them, no matter how hard he dug his nails into his hands to the point of drawing a little blood, the arm was still gone.

Pepper was letting out soft sobs and gasps, trying to cover up her crying. But Peter couldn't cry. All he could do was stand there and stare. Stare at the blank space where his mentor’s arm used to be. The arm that he would pretend not to hug Peter with at first. The arm that he finally did hug Peter with, after days working with Mr. Stark in the lab and after Peter came back from dust. The hand Mr. Stark used to shake the hands of the most powerful people in the world. The hand used to defeat Thanos. Gone.

He felt his breathing accelerate, and he felt lightheaded. He heard himself mumble out, “I need to…” before his vision spotted and then everything faded to black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (TW: anxiety, panic attacks, self-blame) This chapter’s depiction of social workers is not accurate of how all of them are!! I am related to a few social workers that are some of the kindest people I know, but for this chapter to help contribute to Peter’s mental state, I needed to make a kind of rude worker. Also, intubation is what’s used with a ventilator. So there’s some medical talk:)
> 
> I actually passed out in hospital room once when I was on a job shadow, so I promise it’s something that can happen, especially if your blood sugar is low
> 
> So Peter is going to go home with Pepper and Tony! Thanks for reading! The next chapter will be posted sometime in the next week, but I can’t guarantee anything because I just started a new job:o I love to read comments, so leave one if you want:)


	5. Communication

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tw: anxiety, self hate

_Peter._ His name was being called. But it felt far away, and getting to it felt like swimming through jello. 

_Peter?_

He should answer, but he was so...tired….

_Peter!_

He felt a hand on his shoulder, and he wanted to shrug it off, because the blackness was so comforting.

Mr. Stark.

His eyes snapped open, and he squinted at the light that immediately glared right into his eyes. He could see Pepper bent over him, with relief on her face once she saw Peter’s eyes open.

“Thank goodness! Are you okay, Peter?”

“Yeah. S-Sorry. How long was I out?”

“Less than a minute, but I was worried that you might’ve hit your head on the floor.”

He sat up, his head coming off of the cool tile of the hospital floor, and he ignored the flash of pain he felt in the back of his head. He was probably fine; he had been hit way harder than that.

A flashlight was being shined in his eyes, and he blinked and squinted. A nurse turned it off, and said, “Sorry. I needed to make sure you didn’t have a concussion. Do you feel any dizziness or pain in your head?”

“No,” he lied. He stood up and tried to hide the small sway that accompanied the movement. The nurse didn’t seem to notice, as she was walking back out of the room. Someone must’ve called her to bring a flashlight as soon as he hit the floor.

Peter could tell that Pepper noticed his lack of balance, however. She placed a hand on his shoulder. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yes,” he said a little too quickly. She didn’t look entirely convinced, but Dr. Green had already started talking, looking at her laptop. 

“As I said before, the dead tissue is all gone, and it doesn’t seem like the infection is spreading any longer. He’s sleeping now, as the anesthesia has worn off. He was awake very briefly, but fell back asleep after less than a few seconds of consciousness. We also were able to take him off of the ventilator and put him on the oxygen mask, which is noninvasive, so that’s a sign that he’ll be able to breathe on his own again soon.”

“There was nothing that I had to do for the procedure,” Dr. Strange said, looking at Pepper and Peter. Dr. Green looked a little confused, but as she hadn’t done the amputation, she wouldn’t even begin to understand Dr. Strange’s cover up of what he was really doing in the operating room.

Pepper nodded, getting the message that there was nothing odd about the energy being released. Dr. Strange walked over to them, and Pepper shook his hand.

“Thank you Stephen. If there’s anything-”

“Don’t worry. Tony saved all our lives. No repayment needed. Just focus on being there for him,” he said, in a gentler voice than Peter had ever heard out of the seemingly arrogant man. 

She smiled tiredly at him, and he walked out, most likely to find a secure place where he could make a portal to leave.

Dr. Green looked up from where she had been typing at her computer. “I’ll be back in a few hours to check in on him again. The nurses will be here if you need anything,” she finished, closing her laptop. 

“Thank you,” Pepper said. The doctor nodded and walked out of the room, closing the door behind her. 

There were no nurses in the room currently, so it was just Peter, Pepper, and Mr. Stark. Pepper sat down, so Peter took a seat next to her.

Peter hadn’t looked at Mr. Stark since fainting. It was almost like he imagined the absent arm. If he didn’t look, then he wouldn’t have to face reality. So Peter stared at his hands, his shoes, anywhere but the figure laying the bed, wrapped in so many bandages it would be difficult to identify him. 

“Peter?” Pepper asked quietly, her eyes moving from where they had been resting on her husband’s form to the teenager. “We’re alone now. Are you sure you’re okay?”

He hesitated. On one hand, saying that he wasn’t would result in Pepper comforting him, and he could maybe feel better. But it would definitely result in Pepper worrying about someone that wasn’t her husband, and Mr. Stark needed her full attention.

 _After he’s better,_ Peter thought to himself. _I’ll talk to her after he’s better._

So he nodded his head. That was a bad idea. The pain that had subsided since he sat down was back, and he forced himself not to wince at the throbbing feeling in the back of his head. He needed to fix this. 

“Pepper? Do you have any more food?”

She smiled, and Peter almost wanted to take it back, as he was only asking for food, not because he was hungry, but to try and get his healing factor to speed up.

“Of course,” she said, pulling out some of the food that was leftover from the cafeteria. Peter wolfed it down as fast as he could without choking. As he took the last bite of his sandwich, Pepper’s phone went off. 

“Sorry Peter, I need to take this,” she said, answering the phone and walking out of the room. Once again, it was just Peter and Mr. Stark alone. It was a lot harder to ignore him when Pepper wasn’t there.

Peter swallowed, and slowly raised his eyes from the floor to Mr. Stark. He couldn’t bring his eyes to his mentor’s right side. He couldn’t.

He took a deep breath, and planted his eyes on where Mr. Stark’s arm should’ve been. He felt himself get a little dizzy, but he dug his nails into his palms and forced himself to process the state of his mentor. 

“Mr. Stark, I-” he whispered, but he wasn’t sure what he was trying to say. He felt tears prickling in his eyes, but he blinked them away. He could do this. He could.

_But you can't, can you? You fainted after looking at him. You’ll never be strong enough._

Peter wound his fingers through his hair and tugged hard. He focused on the dull pain instead of the voice. 

He kept tugging as the voice seemed to speak louder. _Mr. Stark will never want someone like you living with him. You’re not good enough for him or for his family. You can’t do a single thing right._

He squeezed his eyes shut as he felt the voice rising up, pulling on his hair harder and harder.

He felt a blinding pain on the right side of his head, strong enough where he saw black spots dancing in his vision. He opened his eyes, and could feel a burning sensation on his scalp. He brought his hands down as they shook rapidly, and he held them out in front of him. He opened his closed right hand, to see a chunk of hair, sitting in his palm. 

He just _pulled out_ his hair. He felt nauseous as he stared at the hair, the burning sensation dulling slightly as he felt bile rise up in his throat.

He swallowed it back down and put the hair in his left hand. He raised his right arm slowly, his hand trembling as he gently touched the place his hand had been pulling at his hair. He felt a small patch of wet skin, and when he took his hand back down he saw that his fingertips were red. 

God, Pepper could not find out about this. He glanced at the door, fearing that she would walk in at any second. He threw away the hair in the garbage can next to Mr. Stark’s bed and took a tissue from his mentor’s side table and patted it on the spot on his head.

Thankfully the tissue didn’t have much blood. He threw that away as well.

Just as he threw it away, Pepper reentered the room. She was looking down at her phone, so she didn’t look up at Peter until she sat back down on his left side. He held his breath as she looked up, but she didn’t make a horrific face so Peter assumed that meant he was in the clear.

“I’m sorry about that, Peter. That was Rhodey. He’s not here, because I had him go hang out with Morgan to let the other friend of mine go home. Morgan wanted to say goodnight, and then I gave Rhodey an update on Tony.”

It was night already? It felt that time was dragging on since he’d been at the hospital, so it was sort of a surprise that it had already been over a day since the fight.

“Peter, you should get some sleep,” she continued, pursing her lips. “I promise I’ll wake you when Tony wakes up.”

“No, it’s okay Pepper! I’ll stay awake and watch him. There’s no way that I could sleep!”

Pepper slightly furrowed her eyebrows. “Are you sure?”

“Of course! I already slept today anyway!” 

“Okay, but you have to promise me that when I wake up, you’ll go to sleep.”

He nodded. He wouldn’t go to sleep, because Mr. Stark needed him, but he would pretend for Pepper’s sake.

“Oh wait! I have something for you,” Pepper said, rummaging through her bag. She pulled out a shiny new cell phone and handed it to him. His eyes widened. “Tony told me to bring you this since your old phone is now pretty outdated, and by the looks of it, cracked.”

“Yeah, but you d-don’t have to do this M-Ms. Potts! I’m okay-”

“First of all, you were doing so good with calling me Pepper! Please keep doing that. And second of all, you need a new phone, Peter. It’s no trouble, I promise.”

He blushed and gingerly took the phone, marveling at how shiny it was. Pepper stood up, and Peter pretended to mess with something in his pocket so that his bald spot wouldn’t be noticed as she walked by. She walked over to the armchair in the corner and put up its leg rest. 

“Thank you Pepper,” Peter said as she laid back.

“You’re welcome. Goodnight.”

Pepper closed her eyes, and Peter watched as her breathing evened out, her face peaceful. He was glad that she was able to sleep. 

He pressed the power button on the phone, and watched as it lit up. On the screen read “Stark Industries” and his mouth dropped. He didn’t know that she gave him a Stark phone. He hadn’t been paying attention to what she handed him, but upon closer inspection, he noticed it was the newest model. How could he ever repay Mr. Stark?

He couldn’t. She was doing so much for him, but why? He wasn’t worth all this.

He shook his head slightly, ignoring the slight pain he felt, and watched as the phone turned onto what was going to be the set up menu. But instead, it opened to a lock screen. Peter frowned. He was pretty sure this was a new phone based on its condition. 

He hesitantly typed in his old phone’s password, and his mouth dropped open when not only it worked, but the screen looked identical to his old phone. It even had his wallpaper of the Deathstar exploding, and from what he could tell, all of his old apps were there. He was pretty impressed. The transfer speed of the Stark phones must be unbeatable. 

His attention was pulled to the messages icon when he saw that there were over 80 unread messages. When CPS had called, he hadn’t even glanced at all the notifications. He sighed as he opened the app, dreading what he might find.

The newest messages were from Ned. He had texted Peter seven minutes ago, as well as 20 messages just today. He pressed on Ned’s contact and started reading, all the way back to about ten minutes after he left the bus before hitching a ride on the alien spaceship before the blip. 

_10:53 am_

_did u beat the aliens?_

_what’s with the giant spaceship?_

_are u with the avengers?_

_10:54 am_

_ur fighting with the avengers aren’t u!_

_Im jealous_

_oh I should stop distracting u_

_11:00 am_

_r u almost done??_

_peter??_

_spiderman??_

_11:05 am_

_hello???_

_whats going on???_

_11:12 am  
_

_the spaceship is gone!_

_yay u won!!_

_r u coming back soon??_

_12:01 pm_

_Im starting to get worried_

_why aren’t u back yet??_

_2:02 pm_

_may just called me_

_u aren’t home??_

_where r u??_

The messages continued, a few every hour or so, asking where Peter was, until they resumed after they took a break for what Peter assumed was Ned sleeping. Then, they continued up until 5:04 pm of the following day, when after that they stopped.

Peter frowned and scrolled up, and he noticed that there were no more messages until yesterday. Wait...did that mean that Ned disappeared too?

Peter shakily scrolled up to the recent messages.

_2:04 pm_

_peter omg what happened??_

_I don’t know what’s going on - it was like I was asleep but I didn’t dream, and when I woke up I was in the same place that I started to turn to ash and then I was suddenly back peter wtf is happening_

_3:05 pm_

_r u ok?? did u disappear too??? Im at school and everyone is freaking out_

_I think I was gone for 5 yrs wtf_

_but not everyone disappeared. it’s so weird_

_3:30 pm_

_I found MJ and she doesn’t look different at all, and it sounds like she disappeared too_

_where r u?? r u ok??_

_3:44 pm_

_I’ve been trying to get ahold of may but her number is gone for some reason_

_where r u???_

Relief washed over him. Ned was okay. MJ was okay. They were both still his age. That was probably selfish, that he hoped they crumbled too, but he knew that he still had his two best friends. 

_For now. Once they hear about how you couldn’t save May, they’ll be disgusted by you._

He squeezed his eyes shut for a second, and blinked away the voice as he was left with an uneasy feeling in his chest. 

Ned had texted him about 15 minutes ago now, a simple _where r u???_ and so Peter finally replied, his hands shaking.

_7:05 pm_

P: _hi ned_

Immediately his phone vibrated.

N: _peter?? where the f have you been??? I was so worried I didn’t even know if you were alive_

P: _I’m okay. Sorry I ghosted u for 5 yrs_

N: _nah ur good I technically did the same_

N: _but dude everyone thought u were dead_

P: _I’m dead inside lollll_

N: _I’m serious dude. u didn’t respond after everyone got back, so we thought u died fighting those alien dudes_

Peter shivered at the memory of fighting Thanos and his minions, but pushed it back down.

P: _we?_

N: _I’ve never seen mj so worried dude. and what about may??? was she worried??? and is mr stark ok?? everything is so hushed about what happened to the avengers_

Peter felt the momentary happiness he had felt at talking to his friend again disappear. May was dead. Tony was critically injured. Even though he had a home now thanks to Pepper, at any moment he could be homeless again.

He blinked, the tears coming back to his eyes as he silenced the phone and turned it off. He should tell Ned what happened. Ned didn’t know. But he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

He tucked his new phone in his pocket and stared off into the room. Since it was getting late, the lights were dimmer, and the only sounds were the different hospital machines and Pepper’s soft breathing in the corner. 

He watched as the door to the room opened softly, and a girl only a few years older than Peter walked in, nodding in acknowledgment to him as she checked on Mr. Stark.

She held a clipboard, and wrote down a few things as she checked the different machines. He watched as she changed the different bags, his fascination with anything related to science overtaking any disgust as a bag of yellow liquid was taken away from his mentor’s bed. 

The girl looked over at Peter, and she said softly, “Can you leave the room for a minute? Another nurse is going to help me change his bandages and put on medication, and that’s not something you should see this early on.”

Peter wanted to protest. He needed to stay in the room in case Mr. Stark was in danger. He needed to protect him. But after remembering how he had reacted to Mr. Stark with his bandages on, he nodded and stood up, leaving the room as a boy walked in in similar scrubs to the girl. 

Peter stood in the hallway, the lights a little dimmer than when he was there last time. He watched the door to the room, the room getting a little brighter from what he could see through the crack with the floor.

He waited outside, his foot tapping on the ground as he picked at the skin around his thumb. After what seemed like forever, the door finally opened again and the two nurses stepped out. He thanked them and walked back in, retaking his seat. He looked at Mr. Stark, but he couldn’t notice any real difference from before the nurses came in.

He sat there, staring at Mr. Stark, until his eyes burned. He checked the clock and saw that it said _1:04._ He blinked, trying to keep his eyes open. He had to stay awake for Mr. Stark. He had to.

His eyes had begun to blink slowly, and he felt his head start to drop, when he noticed something out of the corner of his eye. He stood up, closing the gap between him and the hospital bed as he studied Mr. Stark closely. He swore that he saw something.

He was about to sit back down, as he thought his mind was playing tricks on him, when he saw Mr. Stark’s eyes slowly open. 

“M-Mr...Mr. Stark?” he whispered, holding his breath.

He watched as his mentor’s eyes looked at him, with a very glazed look, and then they closed again as he fell back asleep.

Peter smiled as tears came to his eyes. Mr. Stark had woken up. He had _woken up._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tony woke up! He will he fully conscious for more than a second in the next chapter - I promise:) 
> 
> I’d like to include Ned and MJ a little, as friends can be great support systems, but they’ll likely not have a huge role as this story is more Peter & Stark focused. 
> 
> The next chapter will be posted within a week! My new job is taking a lot of time, so I can’t update as much as I’d like, but my 30 challenge I was writing is done, so this is my main focus now!
> 
> Thanks for reading! I love reading comments, so leave one if you’d like!:)


	6. Waking up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please see the notes at the end for TW!

“He woke up?”

Peter nodded quickly, and Pepper went from being drowsy and blearily blinking her eyes, to practically jumping out of the chair and going over to the side of Mr. Stark’s bed.

Peter watched as she stared at Tony’s face, her face dropping its excitement after nothing happened for a good five minutes.

She sat down in the chair next to the bed, and Peter sat down next to her. Pepper didn’t say anything; she just stared at her husband, and after a while she got out her laptop from her bag and started doing work.

He was glad that she didn’t force him to sleep. He knew there was no way that he could sleep until Mr. Stark was fully better. Until then, it was his job to make sure nothing happened to him. He couldn’t mess up again like he did earlier.

After a few hours. Pepper looked over at him. “Did you text your friends back?”

“Y-Yeah,” Peter stumbled out. Technically he had.

“That sounds like a lie Peter.”

“No, I did text Ned back!”

“What about the girl? MJ?”

“I...I didn’t get to texting her.”

Pepper pursed her lips but didn’t say anything else as she turned back to her laptop and resumed tapping away.

Peter released a bit of air out of his nose as he pulled the phone out of his pocket. He could feel Pepper watching him out of the corner of her eye as he opened up the messages again.

This time, he skipped over Ned, despite the fact that he had twelve new messages from him, and scrolled to find MJ. She had texted him yesterday, and not for five years before that. He didn’t go back to read the messages before she disappeared, but instead read the one she just sent that was three simple words, very out of character for her:

_ Are you okay? _

He felt tears start to collect in his eyes. He hadn’t realized that she cared that much about him.

_ She doesn’t,  _ the voice hissed.  _ Ned probably bothered her to text you, or she feels obligated to check on the missing student. Either way, she doesn’t care about you. There’s nobody left who does. _

Peter concentrated on keeping the tears from falling. He didn’t want Pepper to see him crying. He turned off his phone and put it back in his pocket. MJ didn’t really care about him. She didn’t want him to answer.

He went back to watching Mr. Stark. Besides, he couldn’t let anything distract him from his mission.

A few hours passed, Peter staring at Mr. Stark and Pepper typing away on her laptop. Each only interrupted the silence to get up and use the bathroom, where Peter avoided looking into the mirror. The sun began to rise through the hospital room’s curtained window, and when the sky had just begun exploding with vibrant colors, the door to the room opened again.

Dr. Green walked in, and closed the door behind her. She set her laptop down on the standing desk in the corner before walking over to Mr. Stark’s bed.

She examined the monitors and walked back over to the desk, typing something.

“Have either of you noticed anything different about him?” she asked, looking up at them.

“Peter saw him wake up briefly earlier this morning,” Pepper said, rubbing her eyes with her hands.

“Yeah!” Peter started enthusiastically, before frowning. “Um...he just opened his eyes is all.”

Dr. Green typed again. “Do you have a time for that?” 

“Around 1 am.”

She shut her laptop after typing more, tucking it under her arm and walking over to Peter and Pepper.

“Call a nurse in if he’s conscious again,” she said, before promptly walking right back out of the room.

Pepper opened her mouth, and then closed it again, her eyebrows furrowing slightly. “I was going to ask how he was doing, but I guess not.”

Peter whipped his head towards her. “I can try to get her back if you want.”

“It’s okay Peter. Are you hungry at all?”

His stomach felt twisted, like it was in one huge knot. He didn’t think he could eat. “No, I’m okay.” 

“Are you sure? You’re a superhuman teenage boy. You’ve got to be hungry,” Pepper said, pulling out a cookie and a bag of chips from her bag. She handed them to him, and he unwrapped the cookie, nibbling on the edge of it.

Pepper nodded and went back to working on her laptop. Peter continued to take tiny bites, until he threw the cookie and chips away when she wasn’t looking. He felt nauseous and dizzy, and he wasn’t sure if eating had helped or hindered him.

He watched Mr. Stark for any movement, blocking out the deep sinking feeling he constantly was feeling in the pit of his stomach. 

Pepper put down her laptop, and said softly to him, “Peter, I need to talk to you about something.”

He felt dread sinking in, and was about to reply when he felt the hair on his skin raise. He whipped his head around, his eyes wide with adrenaline. But he didn’t see any threat. He glanced at the door’s window, but didn’t see anything unusual, just a man in scrubs walking by the door.

_ Calm down, it’s nothing,  _ he told himself. Pepper looked at him, her eyebrows furrowed with concern. 

“What is it, Peter?”

He forced himself to look back at her. “S-Sorry. Nothing.”

“Are you sure-”

Her eyes went wide as her husband let out a small noise. Peter had never seen someone stand up so fast.

“Tony?” Pepper whispered, placing a hand on the bed next to him. “Open your eyes.”

Even critically injured Mr. Stark couldn’t help but listen to his wife. His eyes opened, and he looked around, his gaze settling on Pepper. His head twitched slightly, and beneath the mask Peter could see his entire face twist up in confusion. 

“What is it?”

Mr. Stark’s eyes flitted to his right side, and he looked back up at Pepper, meeting her eyes. Peter saw Pepper’s shoulders start to shake as tears fell freely from her eyes. Mr. Stark’s confusion was amplified, and Peter heard a small croak come out of his mouth.

“I-I’m sorry. T-They had to-”

_ Oh.  _ Peter felt tears of his own sting in his eyes, as Mr. Stark’s expression remained puzzled in his drugged-up ignorance. Mr. Stark finally seemed to notice that Peter was there, and his head twitched again as his brown eyes held Peter’s. Peter felt the tears trickle down his face, choking back a sob at his mentor’s state.

Mr. Stark’s confusion melted away and his eyes closed as sleep claimed him once again.

Pepper’s shoulders shook for a few minutes as she stared at her husband. He saw her take a deep breath and sit down, putting her head in her hands. 

“Pepper...I-I’m sorry,” he whispered, staring at Mr. Stark.

She was silent for a moment, and when she brought her head up, her eyes were dry but red. “It’s not your fault.”

_ Yes it is. It’s all your fault. You’re supposed to be smart - why did you let any of this happen? _

Peter almost squirmed at the intrusive voice that was swarming around his head like gnats. He didn’t respond, and the two of them were silent for a moment, before Pepper pressed the call button on her husband’s bed. 

A nurse came in, and Pepper told him about Mr. Stark waking up. He nodded and thanked her, before telling her he’d let Dr. Green know before leaving the room again.

As soon as the door shut, Pepper’s phone went off, and Peter saw Colonel Rhodes’ contact on the screen. She swiped her finger across and answered it, after a moment saying, “Hi Mo!”

Peter watched as some of the tension in her shoulders relaxed and her mouth unconsciously turned up while talking to her daughter. After a few minutes, and a promise that she would call once “Daddy” was awake, Pepper hung up the phone. She grinned to herself, lost in thought as Peter felt a warm feeling go through his chest. She really was a good mom.

Pepper glanced at Peter, opening her mouth, before she closed it again. She took out her laptop and typed away on it; Peter continued to stare at his mentor.

After another hour, Peter saw Mr. Stark stir again. “Pepper!” he exclaimed, and her head jerked up. She jumped to her feet, setting her laptop down as she pressed the call button on the bed.

Mr. Stark opened his eyes again, and Peter could tell that his eyes were a little less cloudy than they were the last time he woke up. He made a move to sit up, but the female nurse who had immediately entered the room placed a gentle hand on his left arm and said, “Please don’t get up yet, sir.”

Mr. Stark looked around the room again, and recognition entered in his eyes. He opened his mouth beneath the mask and made a muffled sound.

Peter hadn’t heard Dr. Green enter the room, but she removed the oxygen mask and put a nasal cannula into his nose. He looked up, his eyes blinking slowly, and he croaked out, “Whaa?”

“Hello Mr. Stark. You were severely injured in a fight with the Avengers. Do you remember that?”

Mr. Stark’s eyebrows went down, before Peter heard an abrupt laugh come out of him. “The Avengers...they’re my friends. I don’t fight them,” he slurred in his hoarse voice, a loopy grin planted on his face.

“He has a morphine drip which can cause euphoria, clouded thoughts, and confusion along with relieving the pain,” Dr. Green said to Pepper. She then looked back at Mr. Stark. “Can you tell me how much pain you feel on a scale of 1 to 10?”

A slow frown spread across Mr. Stark’s face, and he mumbled, “Where’s my arm? It’s missing.”

“We had to amputate it because of an infection.”

“It’ll come back later,” Mr. Stark said, his smile coming back to his face. 

Peter felt frozen as he stared at his mentor, his eyes wide with shock. Even though he knew about the side effects of pain killers, it was still sickening to see him that way. 

“I’m...tired,” Mr. Stark said, his eyes blinking slowly. “Gnight,” he slurred, before his eyes shut again. 

“How long is he going to be like that?” Pepper whispered, her eyes fixed on her husband’s sleeping face.

Dr. Green was looking at the IV bags, not bothering to glance at Pepper. “Hmm? Oh, as long as he’s on morphine.”

“And how much longer is that?”

“It depends on his pain. Hopefully we can put him on something less strong in the next day or two.”

“I have to see my husband like this for two days?” Pepper asked, her eyes dangerously bright.

Dr. Green looked at her carefully. “We’re going to change the dressings now. I would recommend leaving the room.”

Pepper looked like she was about to protest, but she instead stood up, grabbed her purse, and nodded at Peter. He followed her out of the room. As soon as the door closed, Pepper placed a hand against it, slouching down and pressing her forehead to the door. 

“Let’s go down to the cafeteria,” Pepper said, her posture straightening as she walked away from the room. Peter followed her, his anxiety increasing with every step that took him farther away from his mentor.

His stomach churned harshly, and he felt a little dizzy and sweaty as they walked down the hallway. Pepper kept a brisk pace, and Peter struggled to keep up without stumbling. What was going on with him?

They reached the cafeteria, and Peter forced his breathing to remain slow. He felt himself picking at the skin around his fingers, not stopping despite the slight pain that he felt when a piece of skin ripped away. He looked down to see his thumb bleeding, so he quickly sucked away the blood while Pepper was looking at the different stations.

Peter glanced up at a clock and saw that it was already 8 am. God, they had only been here a little over a day. It felt like weeks or months or even years since he’d arrived at this hospital. He looked around him at the busier cafeteria than last time, and felt panic arising. He hadn’t forgotten how his spidey sense had gone off a while ago now. Although it wasn’t going off at the moment, he still felt uneasy at the sight of so many strangers that could be potential threats to Mr. Stark. 

He shook his head, the dull throb from when he hit the floor stinging the back of his head. Pepper looked him up and down and said, “How about you find a seat. Is there anything in particular you want to eat?”

He shook his head slightly and he went to the furthest table from other people as he waited for Pepper. There were about 20 other people eating, and he swore that he could feel their stares burning into the back of his head. He felt his right hand wind into his hair again, and he couldn’t stop himself from pulling out another chunk of hair, this time from the back before glancing at it and quickly tucking it in his pocket. The pain was less intense than previously, but it still stung, his eyes darting around the cafeteria to see if anyone noticed. He let out a sigh of relief, before pressing his fingers to his scalp, pulling them away to see a little blood. He wiped them on the inside of his jeans, and clasped his hands in front of him as he could sense Pepper walking his way.

_ You’re not making finding all the pathetic things about you difficult,  _ the voice snarled.  _ Are you trying to get yourself kicked out of Mr. Stark’s home before you even arrive there? Remember, they don’t want you there in the first place. Once they realize how much of a freak you are, they’ll send you away.  _

His breath had started to pick up, his head feeling dizzy and heavy. “Peter?” he heard, and a warm hand was placed on top of his. “Are you okay? Is the hospital causing another panic attack?”

Oh yeah. That’s what he said. He nodded, the black hole in his stomach seeming to suck him down deeper and deeper as he continued to lie to her.

_ And you can’t even be honest about your craziness. You just keep lying and lying. They’re gonna kick you out for lying alone, never mind all of this nonsense. _

He felt his heart beating faster as his eyes squeezed tighter. 

“1, 2, 3, 4…” 

His eyes snapped open in surprise, his heart still beating too fast and everything still accelerated as his eyes could sort of see Pepper, counting just as Karen did. He concentrated on her voice, letting her soothing voice wash through his ears like the gentle breeze after a thunderstorm. 

Her voice slowly became more clear as his anxiety slowly began to subside. His eyes focused on her, and he felt the guilt deepen when he saw her eyes watering up. He let out a shaky breath, registering that Pepper had gotten to 905, her voice hoarse. 

“Pepper! I-I’m sorr-”

“Don’t apologize. It’s okay.”

Peter gulped, his breathing still uneven as Pepper studied him. 

“Are you sure it’s just the hospital that’s causing this?”

Peter nodded, not trusting his voice to be able to tell a believable lie.

“Remember, you can talk to me about whatever you’d like. I promise I won’t judge you.”

_ Yes you would. _

He nodded again, looking down from her strong gaze.

She slid a tray he didn’t realize was there across to him, and his mouth dropped slightly at the sheer amount of food on it. There were a least five different muffins, three apples, four bananas, three mini cartons of Frosted Flakes (his favorite kind of cereal), and four bottles of water. Pepper took a chocolate chip muffin and a bottle of water off, a plastic cup of coffee already in front of her, and began eating.

“P-Pepper you didn’t have to get all this! It must’ve been expensi-”

“It’s okay Peter. Don’t worry about that. Tony and I can definitely afford feeding a superhuman.”

He felt even worse at having no appetite, as she had gotten all this food for him. No. He had to eat it. He took a muffin, taking a bite out of it, swallowing hard as his stomach felt uncomfortably tight. He ignored the nausea he felt and continued eating, forcing down two muffins and a banana before his stomach’s screams felt too loud to ignore any longer. 

The nausea was overwhelming, and he said to Pepper, “I need to use the bathroom.”

She looked up and pointed over to the direction of the restroom. If she had been more alert, Peter was sure she would have noticed the queasy look to his face as he quickly walked away.

Thankfully, the bathroom was empty as he ran into a stall, barely kneeling and getting his head over the bowl before he vomited up everything that he had eaten. He retched, sobbing in between, his hands grabbing the sides of the public toilet. He closed his eyes, feeling even dizzier than before now that he had an empty stomach. Yet he still didn’t feel hungry, even when he almost fell back down after getting up due to the black spots he saw in his vision.

He blinked quickly, the last of his tears falling as he flushed the toilet and stumbled over to the sink. He washed his hands and then scrubbed at his face, rinsing his mouth out and spitting into the sink. 

Peter looked up into the mirror for the first time since yesterday. The first thing he noticed were the exaggerated dark circles under his eyes, still deep despite having slept for a while yesterday. What was worse was the sickly paleness of his skin, the redness around his mouth from scrubbing at it a stark contrast. He tilted his head and saw the bald spot, the other one too far back to see.

It wasn’t huge, so the average person wouldn’t likely notice it, but it stood out to him, glaring at him from the side of his head. He felt an overwhelming sense of shame. Why would anyone want him?

_ They don’t. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: panic attacks, hair pulling, vomiting, self-blame, anxiety
> 
> So I went back and changed a few things so that the timeline of this might make a little more sense. In summary, we’re gonna say that Peter and Tony arrived at the hospital around like 10 pm. Peter waited for Pepper to come after having to go to the cabin for a few hours, so we’re gonna say it was around 5 am that they went to the cafeteria (in this hospital you can get food anytime). He wakes up at the beginning of ch 4 at like 4 pm and Erin comes around 6 pm. Peter texts Ned around 7 pm and then everything should work. Sorry for the changes, but I realized that the timing of events made no sense!
> 
> If any of my medical things are wrong, please let me know! I’m doing my best with Google, but if there’s a glaring error I’d love to fix it:)
> 
> I decided to give Peter Trichotillomania, which is a hair pulling type of OCD. He also is going to pick at his skin, but not to the extent of it being Dermotillomania. With all the added stress and anxiety, to me this wouldn’t be far fetched from what I understand about them. If either of these are triggers for you, be warned as these will continue to worsen.
> 
> Why is Peter’s spidey sense going off? Hmm....;)))
> 
> I wrote this whole chapter in like a day, so I’m hoping that I’ll be able to post another chapter by the end of the week! Thank you so much for reading! Please let me know what you think by leaving a comment if you’d like!:)


	7. Pepper’s Talk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please please please check the TW below if anything in the tags might upset you! I updated them today, so if you need to please check them again!! Stay safe!!

Peter stayed in the bathroom long enough so that he could walk without stumbling, and rejoined Pepper at their table. She had finished her food, and was tucking the extra food in a grocery bag before putting that in her giant purse.

She glanced up at him when he sat back down. “Were you finished eating? I bet the nurses are done.”

Peter nodded, his mouth tasting like metal. Pepper stood up and started walking away from the table. Peter stood up as fast as he could, his head spinning, and walked slowly after her. She didn’t notice at first how slow he was going, but she turned around after a minute when she was a few yards ahead of Peter and waited for him to catch up. They continued at Peter’s slower pace, and Pepper kept shooting worried glances at him.

“Peter are you-”

“I’m okay,” Peter interrupted a little too quickly. “I’m just sore from the fight.”

Another lie. But it must’ve been convincing enough to Pepper, because she nodded and continued to walk at his languid pace. Peter tried as hard as he could not to stumble or sway, concentrating as hard as he could on keeping his balance. 

They reached Mr. Stark’s room again, and Pepper peeked through the window before opening the door. Her husband laid on the bed, looking mostly the same as before. Dr. Green was waiting for them, tapping away on her laptop.

“Mr. Stark will need to be transferred to the burn ward,” she said, not looking up. “It’s on floor eight. We’re going to be transferring him now.”

She used her phone and sent a message, and within a minute there were a few nurses walking in the room and swarming Mr. Stark’s bed.

Peter looked at Pepper, and she turned and walked out of the room. He followed her into the hallway, and they stood and waited for her husband to be wheeled out into the hallway.

The door opened and Mr. Stark was wheeled out on a sort of cart. Thankfully, it was moving slowly so that Peter was able to keep up with it. 

They arrived at the elevator, and they were all able to fit in. Peter pressed the 8 once he stepped in.

The ride was silent, and Peter kept glancing over at Mr. Stark to make sure he was okay. He felt a hand on his shoulder, and he looked over to see Pepper giving him a gentle smile. It was such a motherly gesture that Peter felt his throat constrict. God, he didn’t think he’d ever feel something like that, not after-

_ Calm down. She just doesn’t want you having another panic attack. She doesn’t actually care about you. _

He looked away from her face quickly, making a beeline for the hall once the elevator doors opened. He tailed the cart, accidentally shrugging off Pepper’s hand in the process. He heard her let out a bit of air, and his face burned slightly in shame. 

They arrived at a new door:  _ 812A _ . Peter and Pepper followed the cart in.

The new room looked identical to the old one, and Peter watched as Mr. Stark was transferred from the cart to the bed, flinching as he was set down a little  _ too _ hard in his opinion. The nurses left, and Pepper pulled up two chairs, the two of them sitting down next to the bed. 

“Pepper?” Peter whispered after a second. She looked over at him, and her eyes softened. “What’s going to happen with him after we leave?”

She looked down at her husband, reaching out and placed her hand gently on her husband’s bandaged right shoulder. “We’ll figure it out. I’m working on that.”

She had a distant look in her eyes as she retracted her hand. “Peter, we need to talk about May. It’s what I wanted to talk to you about earlier.”

He swallowed thickly and nodded.

“The day before May’s death, we got a few large packages in the mail. They contained some of your old clothes, your old toys and games, and things like childhood pictures and even your birth certificate. It didn’t have a return address, but we knew it was from May. One of the boxes had a note inside for Tony.”

Pepper rummaged in her bag for a second, before pulling out a slightly dirty envelope. She opened it and pulled out a piece of lined paper, passing it to Peter. 

His hands shook as he recognized the familiar elegant and loopy writing of his Aunt.

_ Tony - _

_ I can’t make myself throw this stuff out. I’m planning on moving to a smaller place, and it won’t be able to accommodate any of this anymore. I’m sending you Peter’s things. If something were to happen to me, I don’t want all of this going to waste. It’s all I have left of him.  _

_ May Parker _

  
Peter read it over and over again, his mind spinning faster and faster, tears collecting in his eyes. He handed back the note to her dizzily, and whispered, “If something were to happen to her? Moving? This doesn’t...I’m-”

“I know,” Pepper said, putting her hand on his arm. “It doesn’t sound like the note of someone who was about to commit suicide. But the police found a suicide note in her home, and we showed them this note. They think that she didn’t want us to alert anyone, so she sent the package trying to sound like she was just taking a precaution. When we received the note and boxes, even Tony thought that she was just moving and nothing more.”

Peter nodded, but there was still something about this that made his skin crawl and his spidey sense tingle. He sniffed, and put his head in his hands. It just didn’t feel right, but that was probably because he was still grieving May, and he didn’t want to admit how she died to himself. That must be it. He needed to get a grip.

He pushed away the weird feelings and looked back up at Pepper as she continued. “So Tony and I kept your stuff. We put the boxes in the closet of the guest room, and when I went to check on Morgan, I decided you might want something familiar.”

Peter nodded and looked at her hesitantly, about to ask a question he wasn’t sure he wanted the answer to. “M-May...our...her apartment...what happened to it?”

Pepper’s eyes filled with sympathy, and Peter knew the answer before she said it. “It was given to a new tenant. I’m sorry, Peter.”

His childhood home was gone. He felt the tears well up, but he refused to cry over something so minuscule. “Thank you. For keeping my things.”

“You’re welcome,” she said quietly, retracting her hand that rested on Peter’s arm back to her lap. 

The two fell back into silence, Pepper on her laptop and Peter staring at Mr. Stark, keeping his mind blank. If he didn’t think at all, he couldn’t be tormented by his thoughts, right?

But it wasn’t long before Peter felt his thoughts spinning out of control once again. Mr. Stark wouldn’t be happy when he could think clearly again. He was going to blame Peter for his injuries, which he should, and he was going to hate him. 

_ This happened because you’re not good enough,  _ the voice hissed. 

Ned definitely hated him since Peter basically ghosted him. MJ didn’t ever like him in the first place. 

_ I’m weak.  _ The voice meshed with his own thoughts, and he gripped his hair, his hands shaking too hard to pull as hard as he needed to.

And May’s death was still his fault.

_ She’s dead because of me. I should be dead too. My life is pointless. _

_ I don’t deserve to live. _

Peter stood up abruptly and mumbled an excuse about using the bathroom to Pepper. He flung open the door, flinching at the sound it made when it hit the wall. The lights were too bright. There were too many doors. Everything was too white. The smell was too intense. It made his head spin. It was all too much.

He stumbled down the hall, somehow making it to the men’s restroom. He lucked out again with the bathroom being vacant. Peter stumbled over to the sink, gripping the edges of it tightly. He took a few deep breaths, forcing his breathing to slow down.

He was okay. He was okay. He was okay. He was okay. 

He wasn’t, but he had to keep pretending he was. He messed up everything he did, but he could try and do that right. The water automatically turned on as Peter put his hands under the spout, splashing his face with ice cold water. He stood there, water dripping off his face into the sink until he felt that his heart wouldn’t escape from his chest for racing too fast.

Peter avoided the mirror as he exited the bathroom; he didn’t think he could handle the state of his own appearance. He stumbled back down the hallway, his vision fading to black along the edges as he finally made it back to the door. 

Pepper looked up at him in concern as he walked in. “Peter, you look exhausted. How about you take a nap?”

“No...gotta…” he started, his voice trailing off as he let out a huge yawn.

“It’s okay. I promise I’ll wake you up if Tony moves at all. And if anything changes, even if he just needs a bandaid, I’ll wake you up. Deal?”

Peter plopped down on the chair, trying to remember what he was arguing about. Oh right. Not wanting to sleep. But he was just so tired…

Peter fought to keep his eyes open as he stared at Mr. Stark. But his extremely low blood sugar and exhaustion took over, his eyes closing shut as he leaned back in the chair. He felt something land on his chest, something soft, but he was out before he could figure out what it was.

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Anxiety, Self-blame, suicidal thoughts
> 
> I originally had this chapter ending a different way, but after thinking about it, I decided that I was a scene that needed to happen later on. Let’s just say things escalated a little too quickly:•
> 
> The hospital stay should almost be done! I’m dying to write some Morgan & Peter scenes, but I don’t want to bring her in too soon because seeing her dad the way he is now might be traumatic for her:/ So expect the smallest Stark to make an appearance soon!!
> 
> Thank you guys so much for all your support on this story!! I can tell you that this story will have another plot line added in besides for Tony’s recovery...perhaps involving why Peter’s spidey sense is going off...hmmmm;)))) 
> 
> I can’t say for sure when ch 8 will be posted since these past two updates happened bc I didn’t have work, but it should be up within a week, hopefully sooner! 
> 
> Thank you for reading! I love hearing what you guys think, so please leave a comment if you’d like:))


	8. Old Memories

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please check the TW at the bottom if you need to!! Stay safe kiddos!!!

He felt fuzzy all over. He hadn’t felt this relaxed since he and Mr. Stark were working on a new Iron Man suit in the lab together. His eyes snapped open.  _ Shit. _

“Mr. Stark! I-”

“It’s okay Peter! He’s fine. Nothing changed while you were asleep.”

Peter sat up, looking over at Pepper. Her right hand was out as if she were trying to calm down a scared animal. He took a deep breath and rubbed his eyes.

“Sorry. How long was I out?”

Pepper looked over at him, and Peter suddenly noticed that her clothes were different. He glanced out towards the window and felt panic set in again as he realized the sun was much lower in the sky.

“It’s about 5 pm now.”

“5? I’ve been asleep for eight hours?”

“Something like that,” Pepper replied, her voice not reflecting how dire the situation was.

“Pepper! I-I can’t sleep that long! What...what if-”

“You needed sleep Peter. I know you’re just trying to be there for Tony, but you can’t do that if you’re dead on your feet. You’ve got to take care of yourself.”

Peter opened and closed his mouth, feeling vaguely like a fish. “But-”

“No buts. Your own safety and well-being have to come first.”

Peter crossed his arms and leaned back, fully aware that he was sulking. Sometimes Pepper was  _ too  _ good at being a mom. 

But she was wrong. Mr. Stark came first. After all, Peter Parker was a nobody. Mr. Stark was a dad and a business leader and part of the Avengers and Iron Man. He  _ had  _ to come first. He was much more important than Peter.

Mr. Stark only woke up once before Pepper announced she needed to get some sleep, and it was the same disoriented loopy confusion for about a minute until he fell back asleep.

Pepper walked over to the armchair, settling back in it and falling asleep immediately. Peter envied that. He either fell asleep when he didn’t mean to, or couldn’t fall asleep for hours. Even when he slept, it was usually plagued by nightmares.

Once again, Peter spent the night staring at Mr. Stark, only leaving once for his bandages to be changed and then immediately coming back in and resuming his careful watch. He wouldn’t fall asleep on his mission again. 

Peter wasn’t sure how long he sat there, staring at Mr. Stark, but he was still there long after the moon was gone and the sun rose. He heard Pepper get up, but didn’t acknowledge her taking a seat next to him. “Peter? Have you moved all night?”

He nodded and whispered, “Only once,” his vision still cemented on Mr. Stark. Even though his eyes felt like they were burning, it didn’t matter. Protecting Mr. Stark is what mattered.

“How about you eat something?”

“I’m not hungry,” Peter mumbled, not breaking his gaze. His stomach still felt like a rough sea, constantly churning. He didn’t know if he could keep down food anytime soon.

“You need to eat. What did I say about taking care of yourself last night?”

Peter didn’t respond, but looked up at her and took the muffin that she held out. He nibbled on it, and managed to eat the entire thing by the time a man Peter didn’t recognize entered the room. 

He closed the door behind him and held out his hand to Pepper. “Hello, I’m Dr. Davis. I’m a burn specialist, so I’m going to be examining Mr. Stark today to see how his recovery is going. Are you Ms. Potts?”

“Pepper is fine,” she said, standing up and shaking his hand. “It’s nice to meet you. This is Peter,” she finished, gesturing to him. He gave a small wave, swallowing down the bile that threatened to come up with his last bite of muffin.

Dr. Davis walked over to Mr. Stark’s bed and stood over him, glancing back at Peter and Pepper. “I’m going to be unwrapping his bandages, so if you are easily squeamish you might want to leave.

Pepper looked over at Peter, and sighed when she saw his stubborn expression. He had left enough times. He could handle it. “We’ll stay,” Pepper said, sitting back down.

He nodded and began the slow process of taking off the wrappings, staring with the ones on Mr. Stark’s head. He took the end and slowly took off the first strip, exposing the yellowed, mangled flesh. Peter resisted the urge to look away as the right side of Mr. Stark’s face, the side that had been severely burned slowly was revealed. 

Initially, Mr. Stark’s skin had been black and shredded from his forehead all the way down the side of his face and to his neck. After a few days of healing, the skin was beginning to turn yellow. The top of the forehead was the most healed, with the skin a deep red, as if there was a large scab. As more of Mr. Stark became revealed, the sight brought bile to Peter’s mouth, and he forcibly swallowed it back down. He felt faint and dizzy, so he leaned his head against his hand to prevent himself from falling over.

His mentor’s outer right ear was gone, so there was a hole leading into his ear canal. His cheek looked like it had red cracks, interwoven throughout the splotched yellow and black flesh. Leading down to his neck, the cracks continued, like a sick sort of pattern of veins, cutting through the destroyed skin. His chest and shoulder were mostly okay as they were covered by the suit, but they were covered with angry red blisters. Peter felt himself get feverish as one of the blisters popped, yellow pus and red blood oozing down from his collar bone to his torso.

But the worst part of all was what was left of Mr. Stark’s right arm. There were black stitches cutting through where the amputation was, a few inches down from where the shoulder met the arm. They starkly contrasted with his angry purplish red skin, blistered from the radiation. 

Peter felt extremely faint as Dr. Davis said casually, “As you can see here, nice progress has been made on the burns. These are comparable to radiation burns, and during surgery we removed dead skin and tissue in a process called debriding from his right side. He was given skin grafts to the side of his face, his neck, and the outer portion of ear was removed. We do not believe that he would have hearing loss unless it was due to nerve damage, because the inner part of his ear didn’t appear to get burned at all. The skin grafts were taken from his left thigh and his back. I’m going to have the nurses put more Silvadene on, and we’ll leave his skin exposed for now and turn up the humidity in the room to try and get more moisture into the skin. It might be a bit uncomfortable, but it’ll be what helps him heal the fastest.”

The doctor’s voice sounded piercing in Peter’s ears, and he flinched when Dr. Davis would put emphasis on his words. His skin felt hot, too hot, and Peter felt sweat trickle down from his forehead to his neck. 

“I-Is the humidity already turned up?” he gasped, pulling at his shirt. He felt like he was on fire, his senses amplified 100 times more than usual. The different chemicals burned his nose and his eyes, and everything was  _ too bright.  _ He felt like he could smell Mr. Stark’s burned flesh again, like he was back at the destroyed Avenger’s facility.

Dr. Davis gave him a look of concern. “No, I haven’t told them to do that yet. Are you okay, Peter? You look faint.”

“Y-Yeah...I’m fine,” Peter wheezed, struggling to get a breath. “I-I...just feel-”

Black spots danced through his vision, and he felt something being pressed in his hand. He blinked hard, forcing his vision to come back, and realized it was a container.

“Drink this,” a young woman’s voice said, and Peter obeyed, gulping down the entire container. Apple and sweetness and sugar exploded on his tongue, and he let out a gasp at the flavor. 

The sugar felt like it jump started his brain, and he blinked hard, everything coming back into harsh focus. Pepper was crouched down in front of him, her eyes wide with concern. She saw him meet her eyes, and she smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. 

“Are you doing okay, Peter?” she asked, placing her hand on his knee gently. He suddenly was aware of the fact that the hand that wasn’t holding the juice was wound into his hair, and when he pulled it away he could feel some of his own hair inside. He nodded as he tried to discreetly sneak his left hand down closed so the hair couldn’t escape, placing it into his pocket. Thankfully, Pepper was busy studying his face. 

“Y-Yeah. I’m sorry. I...I don’t know what happened.”

“Low blood sugar most likely combined with the sight of Mr. Stark without his bandages,” the woman’s voice said gently, and Peter saw a short black haired-woman smiling gently at him. “I can take that from you,” she said, taking away the empty container.

Peter attempted to give her a small smile that was probably more like grimace as Pepper asked him, “Are you going to be okay in here with Tony unbandaged like this? We can go back to the waiting room.”

“No! I want to stay here,” Peter rushed out. He couldn’t leave Mr. Stark. He couldn’t.

“Okay. But if you feel faint again you have to let me know,” she said, sitting back down in the chair next to him. 

“A nurse will come apply the medicine to him in about half an hour. I’ll be back tomorrow morning around the same time. Any questions?”

“Do you know how much longer he needs to be in the hospital?” Pepper asked, her voice cracking slightly. Peter looked over at her in surprise, and he could tell that she was on the verge of her breaking point. “We have a young daughter, and she really misses her dad,” she finished, her voice lowering to a whisper.

Dr. Davis’s eyes held pity when he looked back at Pepper. “Pepper, I can promise you we’ll get him out of here as soon as possible. In terms of time? He was severely injured. He’s going to need at least another day or two minimum and then a rehabilitation program to regain mobility in his right side and help with his amputation. But he will be able to see your daughter soon.” 

With that, he exited the room with a soft “goodbye,” the kind nurse following him. Pepper slouched back in her chair, her head falling backwards.

“Pepper...he’ll-he’ll be okay,” Peter softly stumbled out. She looked over at him, reaching out and gently pushing his sweaty hair off of his forehead. Peter blinked back tears, quickly turning away, sniffing slightly. God. Everything Pepper Potts did reminded him of May. 

Pepper didn’t get back out her laptop. She instead just sat there, watching her husband sleep. Since blocking out his thoughts didn’t seem to work, Peter actively focused on replaying a happy one instead, over and over in his mind. 

_ It was finally the first day of winter break, a few months after the disastrous homecoming. School hadn’t slowed down, and Peter’s brain felt like it was about to explode from finals, and on top of that, patrolling in Queens around Christmas meant that he was stopping a lot more active robberies. So it was safe to say that Peter Parker was exhausted. _

_ When he exited the school, his mouth dropped at the sight of Happy standing there, looking incredibly out of place in his suit and coat amongst the high school students.  _

_ “Dude! Is that Happy?” Ned asked beside him, elbowing him a little harder than he probably intended.  _

_ “Ow!” Peter rubbed his side in mock hurt. “But yeah! I don’t know why though. Mr. Stark hasn’t talked to me since last week.” _

_ “Maybe he has a mission for you! A super secret one involving all of the Avengers that you’ll need help from ‘your guy in the chair’ leading you through every move!” _

_ “Come on Ned,” Peter scoffed, but he couldn’t help feeling a little excitement, despite the exhaustion that felt rooted in his bones. When was the last time he had gotten more than four hours of sleep? _

_ Happy impatiently gestured the universal “hurry the hell up!” at Peter, and he said goodbye to Ned after doing their handshake and promising to hang out over break. _

_ He practically ran over to Happy, ignoring the headache he felt setting in. “Is there a mission? What’s happened? Is someone in trouble? Is-” _

_ “Stop right there. I don’t know why Tony wants you. But I don’t think it’s for a mission.” _

_ Peter felt relieved and disappointed at the same time. “But why-” _

_ “Just get in the car.” _

_ Peter nodded and climbed in the backseat, practically bouncing in his seat despite the pinching feeling he felt in his head. It was all worth it to see Mr. Stark. It really had been awhile. But he knew that Mr. Stark was busy this week and that’s why they couldn’t hold their weekly lab session. Something about “not fucking up” Christmas. He thought there was something about a giant bunny?  _

_ The ride upstate felt forever, but Peter knew from experience that if he started rambling Happy would just put the divider between the front and back of the car up. So he leaned his head against the window, forced himself to stay quiet, and tried to keep his headache from getting worse after texting May to make sure she knew where he was going. _

_ As soon as they arrived, Peter tried, and failed, to jump out of the car, stumbling and almost falling over. He looked up in awe. He could come here a million times and would still never be amazed by the New Avengers Facility. _

_ He followed Happy through the glass doors, jumping up and lightly tapping the frame as he always did. Happy rolled his eyes as usual and gruffly said, “Come on.” _

_ They soon arrived at Mr. Stark’s main workshop, the one that kept all his main projects, including the new suits he was always seeming to make for himself and Peter.  _

_ Happy left Peter at the door and said, “Go in. Have a Merry Christmas.” and waved at the door. _

_ Peter thanked him and returned his holiday wishes, entering in the code and being greeted by FRIDAY. “Hello Peter. Boss is working in the corner.” _

_ Peter could barely hear her, even with his enhanced hearing because of the blaring music. He winced as it pounded into his ears, making his head throb harder as he said, “Turn the music down to 8 Fri.”  _

_ The music immediately got softer, and Peter saw Mr. Stark stick his head up, his cheeks stained with grease. “Hey Pete! Sorry about the music!” _

_ “It’s okay, Mr. Stark. Were you seriously listening to Twenty One Pilots?” _

_ Mr. Stark gave him a small glare. “You’re the one who doesn’t know the difference between Aerosmith and Pink Floyd! I thought I’d give you a break today.” _

_ “That was one time!” Peter whined. “But I appreciate the effort to know anything at all about what teenagers like.” _

_ “Hey! I know what the teens like! I’m swag!” _

_ “Mr. Stark!” Peter groaned, plopping down on the stool next to him. “You’re unbearable.” _

_ Mr. Stark ruffled his hair, eliciting another groan out of Peter as he fixed his hair. “What are we doing today?” Peter asked, his headache suddenly coming back. _

_ “Well I was thinking…” Mr. Stark started, explaining the problem he was having with the new nanobot tech he was trying, speaking in terms Peter usually fully understood. But with his head pounding and his brain dead from everything that he had to deal with during finals week, he was lost.  _

_ “Got all that kid?” Peter realized that Mr. Stark was staring at him expectantly. He tilted his head down, his cheeks burning. _

_ “I’m sorry, Mr. Stark. But I didn’t.” _

_ His mentor sent away the holographic blue prints that had been pulled up by a swipe of his hand and turned in his stool to face Peter. _

_ “Is something confusing about it? Because you usually understand much harder things, Pete. Or is something wrong? What’s going on?” _

_ “I don’t know! I just...my brain is really tired because we just had finals week and I have a bad headache and I didn’t get enough sleep because-” he realized he was rambling and going too far, so he quickly shut his mouth. _

_ “Because?” Mr. Stark prompted. _

_ “Umm...I couldn’t sleep?” _

_ “Wrong answer. Try again.” _

_ “I was studying?” _

_ “Eh!” Mr. Stark made a sound like a buzzer. _

_ “Okay! I’vebeenpatrollingtoolate,” Peter mumbled quickly. _

_ “Kid, you’ve got to speak up and slower.” _

_ “I was patrolling too late the past few nights. But it wasn’t because I wanted to it’s just because there were so many more robberies because it’s almost Christmas and-” _

_ “Kid. You patrolled too late over finals week?” _

_ “Maybe?” _

_ “We talked about this! Didn’t May set a time limit on school nights?” _

_ “Yeah…” _

_ “How late exactly were you staying out?” _

_ “2 am.” _

_ Peter saw Mr. Stark rub his face with his hand, smearing the grease that was already there around. “You’re killing me, kid. You see these gray hairs? All your fault.” _

_ “Nah, those are just because you’re old.” _

_ “I am not! I’m young and hip! We’ve already established that.” _

_ “Hip?” _

_ Mr. Stark pretended to look hurt. “Wow you’re mean, Pete.” _

_ “Learned it from the best!” Peter said, elbowing his mentor gently. _

_ Mr. Stark smiled at him and stood up, walking towards the door. Peter scrambled to follow him. _

_ “Where are you going, Mr. Stark? You’re not going to finish in here?” _

_ “I can work later. It’s almost Christmas! Besides, it’s been almost a month since we watched Star Wars, so we’ve got to fix that.” _

_ Peter smiled and followed him out of the workshop, walking up the stairs after his mentor. _

_ “And kid? Don’t think you’re off the hook yet. May and I will have a talk about patrolling too late.” _

_ Mr. Stark’s eyes softened slightly. “But after Christmas,” he finished, ruffling Peter’s hair again as they arrived at the couch, where they spent the afternoon rewatching “Revenge of the Sith.” _

“Peter?” He looked over at Pepper, who was smiling gently at him. 

“What is it?”

“What were you thinking about? I called your name three times. But I almost didn’t want to keep trying. You were smiling a little.”

Peter blushed. “Sorry. Just thinking about Mr. Stark.”

Pepper nodded and looked back over at her husband. Peter stared at his mentor, his smile fading away and his perpetual state of anxiety and sadness returning. There was no way of knowing if Mr. Stark or Peter himself would be the same after this. Something told him it was going to be a long time before they worked together or watched Star Wars together again. 

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: anxiety, vivid descriptions of injuries, hair pulling
> 
> To help balance out the gross medical stuff, I decided to give y’all a fluffy flashback! There will be more flashbacks throughout the story to help develop Tony and Peter’s relationship before Endgame, but I can’t promise all of them will be this fluffy. 
> 
> Silvadene is a type of burn cream used to help prevent infections! I’ve been asking my doctor mom questions about this, and I’ve had to say “Don’t ask” why I’m asking about burn creams and morphine and gotten some weird looks from her. But I’m sure not everything in this story is accurate! As I’ve said before, most of my info comes from Google:) but the whole Apple juice thing when they thought Peter was going to pass out? That happened to me when I was on a job shadow at the hospital!
> 
> I’m thinking I might make a little Christmas mini fluff series based off this flashback soon. Let me know if there’s something specific you’d want to see out of that!:)
> 
> Based on what I understand about morphine and painkillers, in the next chapter or two Tony will gain some of his awareness back, so I’m sorry in advance:•
> 
> And wow! Almost 1900 hits on this story so far!! And I can tell you there’s still a lot story left:) Thank you for your continued support on this!!:’) The next chapter will hopefully be up Tuesday, but if I get it done earlier I’ll post! Haha I tried to make a posting schedule at the beginning, but f*** it I like posting:) 
> 
> Thanks for reading!! Reading comments definitely helps motivate me to keep at this story, so if you want, please leave one!!:)


	9. Consciousness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to post this earlier, but to tell you the truth, it was pretty hard to write angst these past few days with all of the angst the world is going through. I wasn't sure if I was going to post this week, but I wanted to post this message, and I wanted to give you guys something semi-positive to read with all the chaos that the world is going through. 
> 
> I just wanted to take a second to stress the importance of the Black Lives Matter movement. This honestly is my biggest platform of people, so I wanted to use it for something other than fanfiction for a second. As a white, privileged girl, I haven't known the struggles that black people go through everyday. To my black readers, I stand with you. The oppression and racism needs to end. To my non-black readers, we need to check our privilege. We have literally no idea the struggles that black people go through everyday, just because of their skin color. Take this time to educate yourselves on these issues, and take time to check your privilege. If you haven't taken a stand in this matter, ask yourself: why? Is it because you don't want to ruin an "aesthetic?" Do you feel like this doesn't involve you? Because reality check: it does involve you. It involves all of us. And human lives and human rights are more important than maintaining an "aesthetic."
> 
> I know that many of us use fanfiction as a way to escape reality, but we can't and shouldn't be trying to escape the harsh reality of the situation: black people have been at the hands of a system that has been working against them for far too wrong. They're dying because of it. So before you read today's update, please take the time to:
> 
> 1\. Donate if you can! Donate to helping get protesters out of jail, to local BLM chapters, ect. Here's a link to donate: https://secure.actblue.com/donate/ms_blm_homepage_2019  
> 2\. Sign petitions! Every single person can sign petitions, they literally require 0 money. Text FLOYD to 55156, text JUSTICE to 668366, text ENOUGH to 55165, sign "Justice for George Floyd" on change.org, Colors of change (#justiceforfloyd), "Justice for Breonna Taylor" (change. org), "Justice for Ahmaud Arbery" (change.org)  
> 3\. Go to a protest! If you feel that it is safe for you to go to one in your area, especially with COVID-19 still a threat, please go and let them hear your voice! Remember to please stay safe!!  
> 4\. Watch this YouTube video - watch straight through and don't skip the ads, because all the ad revenue this video earns is going to BLM organizations: https://youtu.be/bCgLa25fDHM  
> 5\. Spread information!! Please do more than just post the black square - use any platform you have to spread donation links, petition links, ect.  
> 6\. Educate yourself! Read books by black authors, listen to podcasts, read articles - learn, learn, learn all you can about what you can do help!
> 
> Please leave anything in the comments that I should add here! I love you all, and I'm begging you to do what you can to support this movement. By working together, we can make a change!
> 
> Black lives matter!!
> 
> -
> 
> Here's your friendly reminder to please please please check the trigger warnings at the end if you need to! A TW that I'll say up here because it's not in the tags (it might be later, we will see) is that there's a mention of past alcoholism.

The rest of the day dragged by slowly, with Peter blocking out any of the negative thoughts that tried to come in. He knew that it wasn’t a healthy way of coping with everything that was happening, but wasn’t sure if he could play off another panic attack. So he spent the remainder of the morning and afternoon staring ahead, focusing on Mr. Stark’s covered lower half. 

The nurses came by twice to slather him with medicine, and Peter looked away, not wanting to see the ointment sink into his damaged skin, but its putrid scent still burned his nostrils. Mr. Stark woke up a few times, but each time was just the same muddled nonsense, before he would go right back to sleep. 

By the time the sun was falling low in the sky, Pepper looked up from where she had been working on her laptop for the past few hours and checked the time. Peter thought he heard something suspiciously like a swear word come out of her mouth as she rummaged around in her bag. She pulled out her phone and quickly typed on it, holding it out in front of her.

Peter heard the familiar sounds of a FaceTime call as the person on the other side picked up. 

“Hi Mommy!” a little girl’s voice squealed. Peter suddenly felt extremely out of place. He didn’t think it would be a good idea for him to meet Morgan before leaving the hospital. He felt too lightheaded and faint. While Pepper had given him a sandwich an hour ago, he had snuck it into the garbage, his guilt burning harder.

“Hi Mo! How are you? Did you have a good day with Uncle Rhodey?”

Morgan replied enthusiastically, and Peter didn’t miss the way Pepper’s expression subtly softened and looked content when speaking to her daughter. Her eyes crinkled the same way May’s did. Peter pushed down the stabbing grief that threatened to overtake him. No. He wasn’t going to freak out again. Pepper already thought he was weird enough.

They talked for a few minutes about a new kids’ show that Morgan was watching and her other activities of the day. Peter listened carefully so that he would have some idea of what Morgan liked to do. If he was going to be living with a little kid, he wanted to be a good playmate for her.

Pepper began to say, “Morgan, do you want to meet…” before she glanced over at Peter and saw the hesitation on his face. She quickly covered it up, saying, “Okay Mo! It’s past your bedtime! Time to say goodnight!”

“But...but I wanna see Daddy!” Morgan whined, sounding on the verge of tears. 

“I know sweetie, but not today. I promise you can see him once we’re out of the hospital.”

“But-”

“No buts! Time for bed.”

“But Mommy!”

“Morgan H. Stark. Bed.”

“Okay,” Morgan finally said, sounding very defeated for a little kid. “But soon?”

“Very soon. I love you! Goodnight Mo!”

“Goodnight Mommy! I love you too! Tell Daddy that I love him 3000!”

“I will. Bye!”

“Bye-bye!”

Pepper hung up the phone, and Peter could see her eyes watering slightly. He looked away, focusing his eyes on the bottom of the bed. Pepper returned to her laptop, typing away once again.

His eyes ached, and he knew that he was starting to become overtired. It had been over a day since he slept last, and he knew it would be a while before he’d be able to sleep again. He shook his head slightly and blinked hard. Peter felt the knot tighten in his stomach harshly, and he almost gasped at the wave of guilt that hit him. He was here, distracting Pepper from her family. And for what? He wasn’t helping at all. All he was doing was giving Pepper more to worry about. Useless. He was a useless person.

Pepper put away her laptop, unaware of Peter’s current mental state as he was actually doing a good job of keeping it inside him for once. She nodded to him and said, “Goodnight Peter. Get some sleep, okay? I know for a fact that you haven’t been sleeping as much as you need to.”

“I will.”  _ Liar _ .

She smiled at him and went to the corner, sitting in the armchair, leaning back, and immediately falling asleep. He couldn’t stop lying. It was like a toxin seeping through his veins. He couldn’t be truthful. But even though it caused him a tremendous amount of guilt, he was doing it to protect Pepper and Mr. Stark, right?

_ But are you? You’re really just doing it to save your own skin. If Pepper and Mr. Stark knew that you haven’t been eating or sleeping or taking care of yourself like you say you are, they wouldn’t hesitate to kick you out.  _

Peter felt the voice hammering in his head, causing him to see black spots. His hands wound into his hair again, but he couldn’t make them loosen their grip or pull them away gently. He couldn’t control them. He couldn’t control his own hands. 

_ Then you’ll be homeless. That’s all your fault. If you hadn’t been such a screw up then May wouldn’t be dead and you wouldn’t be in this situation, would you? _

He tried pushing the thoughts back again, like a dam trying to block a flood, but they relented, crashing into his mind over and over again. His hands began pulling on their own accord, harder and harder as the thoughts kept coming; the thoughts wouldn’t stop. He couldn’t make them stop. 

_ I got myself into this mess.  _ Rip.

_ I’m weak.  _ Rip.

_ It’s my fault.  _ Rip.

_ She’s dead because of me.  _ Rip.

_ I should be dead too.  _ Rip.

Chunks of his hair were on his lap. He couldn’t stop his hands. They were acting in a mad sort of frenzy. He held back his sobs, still dimly aware of the fact that Pepper and Mr. Stark were still in the room with him. 

Black began dancing across his vision, and he tried to fight it. He really did. But after one look down at his hands, red with his blood, the black consumed him. 

He slowly opened his eyes, looking around hesitantly. Pepper was still asleep. Mr. Stark was out cold. He was the only person awake in the room. A quick glance at the clock told him that he had passed out for about three hours.

The hair on his lap was evidence. He stood up quickly, almost passing out again from dizziness, and walked quickly to the door. He peered down the hall, and pulled up the hood of the sweatshirt he had put on earlier, hiding the mess. He tucked the evidence into his sweatshirt pocket and made his way down the hall, only breathing after he had safely made it into the unisex bathroom. The men’s bathroom wasn’t a safe place for this.

He flipped on the light and closed and locked the door behind him. Peter hesitated, before pulling down his hood and turning towards the mirror in one rushed motion. His eyes darted anxiously between the different sides of his head, and he felt ice pierce through his chest. There was no way he could explain this. 

The front of his hair looked fine, just a little matted with sweat. But the problems were the sides and the back of his hair. The first bald spots he had were still evident, but you’d have to move his hair to see them. Thanks to his recent pulling, especially the few chunks he had pulled out tonight alone, there was a place about the size of a quarter on his left side that was missing hair, and a few spots about the size of nickels on the back of his hair and his right side. All visible without having to look for them.

_ How am I supposed to cover these?  _ He first got a paper towel and made it damp with water, wiping off the blood on his head and fingers, letting out a hiss between his clenched teeth as he blotted at the spots. He then took out the hair chunks from his pocket and wrapped them in the paper towel, before throwing the whole thing away. 

Peter made his fingers wet with water, and went about attempting to move the surrounding hair to cover the spots. Everytime his finger grazed the injured patches, he let out a sharp hiss of air. He looked back up in the mirror at the finished product, and felt slightly better. The bald areas were covered. Not well. But they were covered. 

He walked back out of the restroom, closing the door behind him, making his way back down the hall towards Mr. Stark’s room. He felt his skin prickle and he jerked his head around, his adrenaline through the roof. There were no threats. Just a few nurses walking down the hall.

Was there something going on with his Spidey sense? It was never wrong, yet it had gone off two times in the hospital with no apparent threats. He quickly opened the door to Mr. Stark’s room and closed it behind him. 

His spidey sense wasn’t tingling anymore, but that didn’t help Peter’s anxiety. The rest of the night, his eyes were glued open, any slight sound causing him to jump.

When Peter could tell Pepper was about to wake up the following morning, he quickly closed his eyes and leaned back. He heard her walk over quietly and sit down next to him, tapping on what Peter assumed was her laptop. He waited a few minutes before slowly opening his eyes and trying to appear groggy. 

Pepper saw him and said, “Goodmorning Peter! How did you sleep?”

_ I passed out for a few hours after pulling out my hair in a fit.  _ “I slept well, thanks! I didn’t get a ton of sleep, but I probably slept at least a few hours.”

“A few hours is better than none. Are you hungry at all?”

No. “Not yet. I’m not always hungry in the mornings.” Hopefully that would hold off Pepper from trying to get him to eat for a few hours at least.

“Well okay.” She looked skeptical, and Peter couldn’t blame her. Pepper turned back to her laptop, clicking away at it. “Oh, Peter. If you want to watch something on the TV you can. I don’t know if you haven’t been for my sake, but I can concentrate on work through most things. Think about who I live with,” she joked, her eyes still on the screen.

“Okay, thanks.” He didn’t really want to watch TV, but maybe it would provide a distraction and he wouldn’t be overcome with anxiety for a few hours.

Peter grabbed the remote off of the nightstand next to Mr. Stark’s bed and turned the TV on. There was a TV guide, so he grabbed it and soon found the cooking channel. He couldn’t concentrate on the screen, as his eyes couldn’t stay focused, but it did cover up the beeping of the machines attached to his mentor. 

After about an hour a few nurses came in and slathered Mr. Stark with the nasty smelling medicine. Peter was glad the TV was on, as if he made his eyes focus in the general direction it was like he was actually watching it, giving him an excuse to look away from the shiny healing charred flesh. 

It wasn’t long after that that Dr. Davis came into the room again. Peter muted the TV and Pepper closed the screen of her laptop. 

“Good morning,” he said, walking over to Mr. Stark and looking him over. “How are you two doing this morning?”

“We’re well, thank you,” Pepper said with a tenseness to her expression. 

The doctor was silent for a while, making notes on the whiteboard that was in the corner of Mr. Stark’s room for the different nurses. He then turned to Pepper and Peter. 

“The burns are looking better!” he said enthusiastically. “I would recommend one more day of being in the burn unit as to make sure that he doesn’t develop an infection, but it’ll depend on what Dr. Green says, as she’s coming here later to take a look at his amputation site and to see how he’ll be off morphine.”

“They’re taking him off morphine today?” Peter asked, trying to mask his surprise and hope.

“He was given his last dosage last night. He was given an extended-release formula, so as his last dosage was at around 9 pm last night, it could be anytime between now and a few hours from now that it’ll completely wear off. When he wakes up, I want you to press the call button immediately and they’ll get Dr. Green in here.”

Pepper nodded. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. You’ll get through this, Ms. Potts,” he said, shaking her hand and clasping it gently.

He left the room, closing the door softly behind him. Peter turned the TV off completely. If Mr. Stark was waking up soon, he didn’t want to miss what might be the first comprehensive moments with him. Pepper seemed to have a similar idea, as the laptop stayed away, but she casually swiped on her phone, her eyes flitting up to her husband every few seconds. The tension in the air was so thick it could be felt. 

“Pepper? I-I don’t want him to be in pain anymore,” Peter said, trying to keep his tone casual but ultimately letting his worry seep in. “Won’t he be in agony without the morphine?”

“I hope not,” Pepper said, her expression firm, but her voice wavering slightly. “But he could be better than they think and the morphine could be doing more harm than good.”

Peter wasn’t an idiot. He had seen the articles about Tony’s alcohol addiction, noticed that the bar in the upstate facility was never stocked, and had heard the hushed whispers of Tony to Pepper on a night he was sleeping over.

_ “Pepper, I don’t know if I can keep doing this,” Tony said, his voice a low hum. He was sitting on one of the stools at the kitchen table, Pepper seated beside him. His face was in his hands. “I’ve held it together for a few months, but with everything going on? Shit, I can barely hold myself together with the alcoholism alone, but dealing with PTSD too? I’m a mess, Pep.” _

_ “You can do it, Tony. If you can’t do it for the Avengers, stay sober for me. Stay sober for Peter. He looks up to you,” Pepper said, and Tony looked up at her. _

_ “How can I be a good example for him when I can barely control what’s going on in my own damn mind? I can’t-” _

_ “You can. I believe in you.” Pepper leaned over and kissed his cheek softly, taking his right hand in hers.  _

_ Peter felt the back of his throat get scratchy, and he quietly tread back down the hallway to his room. He knew he was never supposed to find out about that, but he did. He couldn’t let what he’d heard change his relationship with Mr. Stark. He was still the same man.  _

When the brain is prewired to addictive behaviors, it’s easier for other addictions to take place. So Peter knew that with Mr. Stark’s past alcoholism, that morphine would easily become addictive to him. Mr. Stark had an actual kid to worry about now. He couldn’t afford a new addiction or his alcoholism coming back. 

Peter looked down at his hands, away from Pepper, hiding what he knew too much about. Pepper looked back at her phone, but Peter could tell she wasn’t actually doing anything on it.

Was that...a twitch? Peter’s eyes focused on Mr. Stark’s closed eyes, where he’d thought he’d seen something. He gently nudged Pepper, and she silently put down her phone and leaned forward on her knees, staring at her husband. Peter felt his eyes burning, but he forced his eyes not to blink. He couldn’t miss this. 

Mr. Stark’s eyelids twitched again, before his eyes shot open. Pepper stood up quickly and pressed the call button on his bed, Peter following and rising beside her. 

“Tony? It’s Pepper. You’re okay.”

Peter’s throat felt thick but he managed to get out, “M-Mr. Stark?”

Mr. Stark’s eyes got wide as he looked around the room, and he immediately tried to sit up, his left arm raising slightly. Pepper gently held her arm out to stop him.

“You’re in the hospital. You’re okay. Morgan is safe. Peter is here.”

Her husband’s eyes finally focused on the two of them, standing next to each other, and he said, “Hey Pep. Hey kid.” When Mr. Stark’s eyes met his, their soft brown were unclouded, and the clearest they had been since Mr. Stark hugged him on the battlefield. 

Peter felt his eyes well with tears, and looking over at Pepper showed the same thing. Mr. Stark didn’t look loopy, but there was confusion on his face. “What-”

“Hello Mr. Stark.” Peter whipped his head around to see Dr. Green walking into the room with her laptop under her arm. “My name is Dr. Green. How are you feeling?”

Mr. Stark studied her, and Peter could tell that he didn’t like her right away. Or he was just tired. He’d give him the benefit of the doubt.

“Fine. Just dandy. You’re interrupting my big moment of coming back from the dead.”

Yep. Mr. Stark wasn’t a fan. Dr. Green just gave him a tight smile. “I need to know how you’re actually feeling so I know if we need to put you on more morphine.”

“I just told you. Pep, when are we getting out of here?” Tony said, looking at his wife. His eyes drifted down to his side, and Peter saw his face go white. “What the  _ hell _ happened to my arm?”   


“Mr. Stark, we had to amputate your arm, as you had a severe infection that could’ve-”

“You took my arm? Why didn’t Strange fix it?”   


“He couldn’t, Tony,” Pepper said, her tone calm. If she were even as bit as panicked as Peter was then she would be a mess. “He was too weak from-”

“He’s a fucking wizard with magical powers! What do you mean he was too weak?”   


“Mr. Stark, if I may? I don’t know what you mean by magical powers, but you were on death’s edge by the time you arrived at the hospital, and should’ve most definitely had almost destroyed internal organs, yet they were unscathed. If this ‘wizard’ you speak of had something to do with that, that was no easy task,” Dr. Green said firmly. 

Mr. Stark looked fuming, like he wanted to argue further, but he looked over at Pepper and stayed silent. “Now, let’s start over. Mr. Stark, you came to the hospital with severe third degree burns, a rapidly spreading infection from the radiation in your right arm along with the bones there being completely shattered, a broken pelvic bone, and a broken nose. With all those injuries, I really do need to know how you’re feeling.”

Dr. Green looked expectantly at Mr. Stark, and he looked very confused. “I’m actually fine. There’s some pain in my head and by my right hip, but other than that, I don’t feel anything. It’s just numb.”

Both Pepper and Dr. Greens’ faces went white.

“What...why doesn’t he hurt?” Pepper whispered as Dr. Green rushed over to the standing desk and opened up her laptop.

“He...he should be feeling pain in his shoulder and his right side, as well as the right side of his face. There was a likelihood of nerve damage from the burning, but I didn’t think…”

“The burning caused this?” Pepper asked, studying her husband. 

“That’s the probable scenario. I’d like to do an NCV test that’ll test for nerve damage. But we’ll have to wait for his skin to be dry again. I’ll come back in a few hours. Do you have any questions, Mr. Stark?”

Peter hadn’t seen Mr. Stark this mad since he took the suit away from Peter after the ferry incident. But underneath it all, Peter could tell the man was  _ scared.  _ Mr. Stark had dealt with so many things in his life, including having shrapnel pierce through his chest. But there was so much at stake now. He had a wife. He had a family. And it was all Peter’s fault that he was like this. God, he was such a failure. 

Peter shook his head and listened as Mr. Stark said through gritted teeth with a pointed look from Pepper, “No.”

“Okay, I’ll see you all in a little bit,” Dr. Green said, picking up her laptop and leaving the room.

Mr. Stark immediately exploded. “Pep, what the hell is going on? Who was that? Where’s Maguna? Why am I not at...oh,” he finished, his voice falling away at the end. 

“Tony, everything was destroyed. I didn’t want you to have to go to a hospital, but...you were dying. I thought you-” Pepper’s voice broke off as she sat back down. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want this to happen to you. I didn’t want them to take your arm.”

Mr. Stark just looked down at his right side, not saying a word. Peter felt extremely out of place. His mentor was obviously not in a good mental state. Pepper was heartbroken at seeing her husband like this. And Peter? Everything inside him felt like it was about to collapse. He knew that Mr. Stark was going to be upset, and he had the right to be that way. But he thought that Mr. Stark would’ve at least said something to him besides for his name. 

_ Stop blaming him. You want him to forgive you so quickly even though it’s your fault he feels that way. Of course he isn’t going to want to talk to you.  _

Peter swallowed hard as Pepper sat there, quietly watching her husband as he continued to stay silent. He would just make things worse. They didn’t want him here. They wanted their actual child, not the teenager they were forced to take care of. He felt his right hand start to pick at his hair, a few pieces at a time, falling to his lap. Both Pepper and Mr. Stark didn’t notice as more and more hair began to collect. It was almost a rhythm; his fingers would grip around a few pieces, he’d pull, they’d fall, and then it would start over.

He wanted to stop. He really did. But with each small chunk he ripped out, he felt that he couldn’t stop. He couldn’t stop.

Only when he saw Pepper’s head shift up, he was able to gather enough willpower at the thought of being discovered to force his hand into his lap, hiding the hair on the chair. He wasn’t sure if he’d be able to stop next time. 

_ Next time. You’re not even trying to stop yourself are you? Face it. You want the attention. You’re just a little attention whore, just as you’ve always been. At a time like this? When Mr. Stark needs Pepper’s full concentration, you pull a stunt like this? _

God, his stomach felt  _ awful.  _ He wasn’t sure the last time he’d eaten something substantial, but it was the gnawing guilt and churning hurricane and he couldn’t even fathom eating. Acid was coming up in his throat, but he swallowed it back down. If he left now, he was sure that would draw attention to himself. Unfortunately, swallowing his bile down only made the feeling much worse, and he immediately felt extremely nauseous again. 

He quickly tucked the hair into his pocket and stood up, whispering, “I’m going to use the bathroom,” to Pepper, before he quickly left the room. He stumbled as quickly as possible down the hallway, black spots dancing across his vision. He was so dizzy. And so tired. And so nauseous.

He didn’t make it all the way to the bathroom. He found the nearest garbage bin and heaved over into it. He felt a gentle hand on his back, but he couldn’t stop dry-heaving. Bitter smelling liquid left his mouth as tears sprang to his eyes. After leaning over the trash can for a solid minute without anything coming up, he wiped his mouth with his sleeve and turned around. A nurse was standing next to him, her hand on his shoulder.

“Are you okay, sir?” she asked gently.

“Y-Yeah. Sorry. I sometimes throw up when I’m nervous.”

“Is that it?” she asked, her eyebrows furrowed.

“Yeah. My-My dad just went into surgery and I’m stressed about it,” he said, his face feeling like it was on fire. He stared down at the floor, the guilt sinking his stomach down lower and lower.

He glanced up when he felt a hand on his arm. “We have some of the best surgeons in New York. I have full faith that your dad will be okay.”

Peter felt shame burn his skin at the sight of her gentle hazel eyes looking into his. He swallowed hard, through the thickness he felt in his throat. “T-Thank you.”

“Of course. Do you want me to walk you to the waiting room?”

“N-No...No I’m okay.”

“Let any of the staff know if you need anything. We’re here for you.”

He turned away as he felt tears stinging in his eyes. “Thank you.”

Peter walked away before she could respond, wiping the tears quickly that had escaped. He didn’t know how badly he had needed to hear words of reassurance, even if they were for a fake situation. Even superficial reassurances were like a breath of fresh air after a hurricane. The hurricane Peter felt trapped inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: hair-pulling (multiple times), self blame, mentions of past alcoholism, anxiety, suicidal thoughts, descriptions of blood and passing out, vomiting
> 
> I was asked a question about how Peter's grief for May, and if his hair pulling and everything is a form of that. So if you'd like to see my answer to that comment and question, go to the comment section on the last chapter! 
> 
> Medical jargon fact - a nerve conduction velocity (NCV) test is an electrical test that's used to detect abnormal nerve conditions. It helps diagnose nerve injuries for people who have numbness or weakness in their limbs. Electrical signals are sent down specific nerves, where an electrode placed on the skin detects the electrical impulse 'down stream' from the first. The nerve is stimulated with a tiny electrical current at one point with a nerve stimulator. Then the electrical activity is recorded by a skin electrode. This whole process will be used in the next chapter, so I just thought I'd show you what google told me about this!:)
> 
> So Peter's spidey-sense has gone off again - is it because he's like a walking zombie right now, or is it something more...
> 
> I promise I'm almost done with Tony in the hospital. Really. Just give me a little bit longer and we'll have some more fluff (bc goodness poor Peter needs a break) as Morgan enters the story! But hold on tight, because we've still got a whole lot of Tony and Peter angst to get through. You've been warned;)
> 
> I've got another, much fluffier Tony and Peter story in the works (not the Christmas one I referenced, but a completely different plot). Stay tuned for that:)))
> 
> I literally can't believe this story has over 2,300 hits!! You guys are simply incredible!! Thank you to everyone who has read this story so far - I love you all!! If you'd like to leave a comment, please do! Next chapter should be up in a few days!


	10. Testing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm switching it up and making this chapter from Tony's POV (still progressing with the story - this isn't in the past at all). Please read the warnings at the end if you are triggered by anything in the tags! Btw, I added in a tag for past alcohol abuse.

“Pep, I don’t know what to say to him,” Tony sighed. “I-I don’t know how to…”

“To what, Tony? Peter looks up to you. It doesn’t matter what you say to him. Just say something. Because I can guarantee that whatever you’d say can’t be worse than how he feels now; you’re practically ignoring him.”

Tony felt his anger flare, but he kept it down. Pepper was right. “I know. But what do you say to a kid who has just lost their entire world?”

Pepper was silent for a moment, before she reached over and took Tony’s left hand. She ran her thumb over Tony’s knuckles softly. “He...he hasn’t been doing well, Tony. I’m worried about him. He-”

She quickly clamped her mouth shut as Peter walked back into the room. Tony felt his heart ache at the sight of the teenager silently take a seat next to Pepper again. 

Tony hadn’t noticed how awful Peter had looked until now, as he was too concentrated on his own anger and grief to get a good look at the kid. The last time Tony had seen Peter, really  _ seen _ him, had been when Peter had come back from the snap. Although he had been a little banged up, he still was strong and had his usual bright look in his eyes when Tony had hugged him on the battlefield. 

But now Peter was pale, the dark circles underneath his eyes huge. His hair was sticking up in odd directions, and his skin was slightly off-color, like he was sick. However, the thing that stuck out to Tony the most was the look in Peter’s eyes. His huge brown eyes were tinged red, the veins in them contrasting sharply against the whites. They held a weight that hadn’t been there before.  _ Grief,  _ Tony realized quickly, watching out of the side of his eye as Pepper stood up.

“I’m going to go get coffee. Peter, do you want anything from the cafeteria?” 

“No,” Peter mumbled. Tony almost did a double take. The kid was  _ always  _ hungry. He often would eat at least two dinners with multiple servings during each. Were Peter’s cheeks sharper, or was Tony imagining it?   


When Pepper turned to leave, she gave Tony a pointed look that said,  _ Talk to him. _ As soon as the door was closed, there was a weight to the air that hadn’t been there before. Tony could tell that Peter was purposefully looking anywhere except for him. His eyes would scan the room but avoid Tony entirely.

_ The kid probably blames me for May’s death,  _ Tony thought to himself, feeling sick to his stomach. He ignored the flare of pain that came to his side and the fact that moving made his vision go spotty as he shifted to a slightly more seated position. 

Peter had every right to blame him. He swore that he would check on May more often than he did, but it was hard. Queens wasn’t close by anymore, and being away from Morgan for any amount of time was painful. He had fought so hard to keep his family, but in the process had caused Peter to lose the only family he had left.

He realized that a few minutes had passed without either of them speaking. He blinked, spilling out what he had to say while accidentally interrupting Peter.

“M-Mr. Stark-”

“Pete, I’m sorry,” he rushed out, before taking a deep breath, remembering to slow down. “I’m sorry about May’s death. It’s not fair,” he finished, feeling a little breathless. He wanted to say,  _ I’m sorry I didn’t keep a better eye on May  _ and  _ I promise I’ll do better with you, _ but the words got stuck in his throat. He tried to move his right arm, before it all rushed back to him. He didn’t have that anymore. It was gone. He swallowed down his panic as Peter’s wide eyes met his. 

“O-Oh. I...It’s-” 

Whatever Peter was going to say was cut off by the door starting to open again. His face turned bright red, and Tony saw Pepper’s eyes dart between him and Peter a few times. She had one eyebrow raised, and Tony shrugged. At least he had said something. 

She took her seat again and set her hand on the bed where Tony’s right arm should’ve been. He felt a pit sink in his stomach, and he sniffed, pushing it down. He had bigger things to worry about. He looked at the sullen teenager seated next to his wife, staring down at the floor, and Tony was struck by the realization that he had no idea what to do. He had been feeling that a lot recently. A lot more than he was comfortable with. 

He had spent five years feeling lost. He had everything he had wanted - a family away from the spotlight, secluded where they could live in their own world. But how was he supposed to be happy, when someone as wonderful and loving as Peter Parker wasn’t around? And now that Peter was back, there was a wall between them that hadn’t been there before. Tony could barely manage figuring out how to parent a four year old. How could he be there for a sixteen-year-old superhero who had lost every family member who had cared for him?

Tony’s eyes felt heavy all of a sudden, and he blinked hard. He felt Pepper’s eyes meet his, filled with concern, and when he spoke, his throat felt thick. “I-I’m tired,” he managed to get out. 

“Then sleep. Don’t worry. We aren’t going anywhere.”

Tony saw that for a brief second Peter’s eyes met his. The boy had an almost reassuring look in his eyes, putting an expression that was far too old for a teenager on his face. Tony wanted to laugh. But primarily, he felt a deep-set guilt. Peter was trying to reassure him. A grown adult. At a point where Tony should be the one reassuring him. 

He was about to protest, when the pull of sleep became too much for him, and his vision faded into black.

_ Tony was seated at the kitchen table in his cabin with his family. They all were there. Peter was laughing at something Morgan had said. Morgan was erupting into giggles herself. And Pepper was smiling distantly, as if she were savoring the moment.  _

_ “Pass me a napkin, please!” Morgan said politely, and Tony handed one to his daughter. She wiped her face and set it back down on the table. _

_ “Good manners!” Pepper praised. Tony ruffled Morgan’s hair, causing her to start giggling again.  _

_ “Stop Daddy!” she shrieked, batting away his hand.  _

_ “Dad, can you pass me a napkin too?” Peter asked, giving Tony a bright smile. _

_ “Of course, kid.” Tony reached out to give it to him, but as Peter tried to grasp it, his fingers started to turn to dust.  _

_ “Dad? I...I don’t feel so good.” Peter said, his eyes wide. Tony rushed out of his seat and over to his kid, who had collapsed onto the floor.  _

_ “You’re all right.” Tony pleaded desperately as he cradled his son.  _

_ “I don’t know what’s-I don’t know what’s happening. I don’t-I don’t wanna go. I don’t wanna go, Dad, please,” Peter panted, his body slowly disintegrating. Tony tried grasping for the ashes, but they slipped away. Peter’s huge brown eyes were filled with tears. “Please, I don’t wanna go! I don’t wanna go…” _

_ Tony felt Peter’s right hand claw at his neck, but it faded away as Peter’s face slowly began to turn to dust.  _

_ “I’m sorry,” Peter whispered as he finished turning to dust, the black ashes swirling through the air and out of the room. _

_ Tony felt something in him break. He let out a cry and looked wildly at Pepper. She just smiled at him, and said, “What’s wrong, Tony? _

_ “Peter! He-He-” _

_ “Oh but you don’t care about him, Tony,” Pepper said, her eyes wide as her face morphed from a pleasant to a twisted smile. She walked over to him, crouching down and whispering into his ear, “After all, you have us now. You never loved him. He never loved you. You don’t have to be sad; you have your family right here.” _

_ Morgan walked over to him, her eyes the same as Pepper’s, wide and blank. She grabbed his right hand with a surprising amount of force. “It’s okay, Daddy. You don’t need him. You replaced him with me, remember?” _

_ Tony felt tears start to stream down his face as he shook his head. “No. You’re wrong! You’re both wrong! I care about him. He’s my kid!” _

_ At the same time, Pepper and Morgan snapped their focus to Tony’s eyes and smiled gruesomely, saying in the same monotone voice, “Then why did you give up on him?” _

He jerked awake, breathing heavily. Immediately, Pepper was in his field of vision, and if he moved his eyes, he could see Peter leaned towards him as well.

“You’re okay, Tony,” she murmured, gently taking his hand in hers. “It was just a dream.”   


Tony squeezed his eyes shut, before opening them again and blinking a few times. He took a few deep breaths, forcing his heart rate to slow back down. He didn’t want to look over at Peter. His guilt was amplified by a hundred after his dream. 

“Sorry, Pep. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

She just faintly smiled, squeezing his hand. “I was about to wake you up anyway. Dr. Green just came in to say that she’ll be here a few minutes for your nerve test.”   


He swallowed, trying to ignore the panic that was setting in, highlighting the dull ache he felt in his head. He had already been thinking about a prosthetic design. If his nerves were damaged past a certain point, he didn’t know the possibility of getting some sort of working arm back. 

Dr. Green walked back into the room at a brisk pace. Pepper gave him a look that blatantly said,  _ behave _ , so he pushed down his snide remarks. It wasn’t Dr. Green’s fault that Tony didn’t like her. He wouldn’t like anyone who had to be in her position. 

Behind her, a nurse carried two cords that had small patches attached to the end. Dr. Green rolled the standing desk so it was directly next to Tony, and he watched as Pepper and Peter quickly moved their chairs to his left side and sat down in them again. Pepper took his hand, but didn’t meet his gaze as the nurse handed Dr. Green the chords. 

“Before we start the test, I need to ask you a few questions that might impact the results of the test today. Do you have diabetes, hyperthyroidism, or any systemic diseases?” 

“No.”

“Besides for the morphine used at the hospital, have you been using any muscle relaxants, opioids, or psychotropic medications?”   


“I haven’t used either of the first two unless I was in a hospital. I...uh-I used an anxiety medication in the past, but I haven’t in the past few years.” He kept his vision fixed on Dr. Green. He didn’t want to know how Peter and Pepper reacted to that.

“Do you have a history of alcohol abuse?”

Tony felt his panic rising. How was he supposed to answer that? Because he wasn’t ready to admit that. Not to Peter. Not to the only person except for his own daughter who looked up to him that way. It was selfish. He knew that. But could he really admit it to Peter?

“Mr. Stark?” he looked over at Dr. Green again, and realized that she was staring expectantly at him. “I asked if you have a history of alcohol abuse.”

He glanced over at Pepper out of the corner of his eye, and he saw her nod slightly.  _ It’s okay,  _ her face said as she squeezed his hand a little tighter. 

Tony avoided looking at Peter as he nodded once. Dr. Green typed something down, and Tony couldn’t help but peek at the kid. 

Peter’s expression was blank, so Tony couldn’t tell what he was thinking. But Peter’s hand was weaved in his hair, and Tony could tell that his knuckles were white. He frowned before returning his attention back to Dr. Green. He didn’t think Peter had done that before. 

Dr. Green finished typing and then plugged the cords into her computer’s USB ports. She used the room’s hand sanitizer before tugging on gloves.

“I’m going to take and put the electrodes on your skin now. These are going to pick up the signals that your nerves are going to send during the test. We’re going to test multiple places, but we’ll start on the side of your head.”

He couldn’t really feel as she placed them on him, but based on what his peripheral vision could see, there was one that was on the right side of his temple, with the other on his jaw. 

“This shouldn’t hurt, but it might be a little uncomfortable. One of the electrodes is going to send a shock while the other picks up any signals, and they’ll be read by my computer. Are you ready?”

He knew his grip on Pepper’s hand was tight, but he couldn’t bring himself to loosen it. Thankfully, she squeezed back just as hard, giving him something to focus on.

“Yes.”

She pressed a button on her laptop, and Tony braced himself. There was a slight pressure, but it wasn’t uncomfortable or painful. After a few minutes, she pressed clicked again, and then pulled the electrodes off his skin, moving them down to one on his upper neck and the other next to his collarbone.

“The nerves on your face seem to have experienced a peripheral nerve injury. They’re functioning, but at a rate of about 26 meters per second. The normal rate is 50 to 60 meters per second. I’m going to test the second spot now.”

Once again, Tony braced himself, but he felt the same thing, only pressure. After another few minutes, the doctor removed the electrodes again and then placed one on the place between his shoulder and neck, and then another toward the bottom of his...his  _ stump.  _ He quickly looked away once she got there. 

“Just like the face, the neck seems to have a slower response. They’re responding at about15 meters per second, so they’ve experienced more damage than the face, but they will still work. That’s a good sign.”

Tony could tell she was trying to reassure herself as he braced himself for the last time. But this time, Tony felt...nothing. No pain, no discomfort. Not even pressure. He couldn’t feel  _ anything  _ at all. 

For the next few tense minutes, Tony carefully pushed his anxiety down as far as he could. There was no reason to freak out yet. There was still a possibility that everything would be okay. 

However, as he watched Dr. Green’s face pale, he realized that that possibility was turning less likely every tense second that Dr. Green kept the electrodes on. She kept them going for a good five minutes more than the other places, but everyone in the room stayed dead quiet. 

Dr. Green finally removed them, and she was silent for a moment as she typed something on her laptop. Tony was extremely close to snapping, but then she closed down the lid of her laptop and looked at him. 

“The nerves in your shoulder have a rate of around 5 meters per second. This means that the messages aren’t really going through as they are extremely damaged. Your muscles there are going to be extremely weak and are on the brink of atrophy. Due to this, it is highly unlikely that your shoulder could support any kind of prosthetic arm. I’m sorry, Mr. Stark.”

Tony heard ringing in his ears, overwhelming his hearing. Distantly he heard Pepper plead, “There’s nothing you can do to fix this?”   


He couldn’t hear Dr. Green’s response, but it must not have been a positive one, because he felt Pepper’s head fall gently onto his undamaged shoulder, feeling her tears wet his skin. How was he supposed to lift up Maguna anymore? How was he supposed to give her a hug? How could he invent anything? How could he fix Peter’s suit? How was he supposed to hold Pepper anymore? 

He felt a smaller hand grasping his, but it wasn’t Pepper’s smooth palm. It was calloused and slightly sticky. The fog that clouded his mind faded enough for him to decipher that it was Peter’s hand, holding his firmly. The pressure of Pepper’s face wasn’t on his shoulder anymore, but her smooth hand was gently pressed against his cheek. Tony could hear Pepper faintly murmuring, “It’s okay. We’re gonna be okay. Tony, look at me,” her voice firm again. 

He forced his head to turn to face his left side, where Pepper’s face was directly in front of his. In the background, Peter was even paler as he continued to firmly grip Tony’s hand. 

“We’ll get through this together, Tony,” she said, her voice louder and filled with a sense of confidence. “Just as we’ve gotten through everything else.”

He couldn’t speak, but he just nodded so she knew he’d heard her. Relief passed through her face, before the firmness, the no-nonsense Pepper that he had easily fallen in love with, was back, wiping away her tears.

“So when can we leave?” she asked, right to the point. 

“Hopefully tomorrow. I’ll get you in contact with a neurologist and help set up an appointment, as they might be able to go more in depth about the damage to his peripheral nerves, but you should be able to administer his medications to him at home. I don’t want him walking yet, as even though the pelvis break wasn’t severe, it’ll still be eight to twelve weeks before he’s able to walk even with physical therapy. Finally, you mentioned that you had some pain in your head, Mr. Stark. Where is that at?”   


“The back.”

“Keep an eye out if you have any dizziness, headaches, vision changes, mental fog, sensitivity to light or noises, or any other odd changes.”

He just nodded, aware of the protocol when it came to concussions. He’d had a few from the countless fights he’d been in, even with his protective Iron Man armor.

“I’ll tell the hospital staff to bring you some food, but you have to eat it slowly, okay? You don’t want to overwhelm your stomach. I’m going to put you on a general painkiller, but it shouldn’t have any effects on your mental state. Press the call button if the pain in your pelvic area and your head doesn’t go away in the next half hour or so. Any questions?”

Tony felt like his head was swirling with all the information the doctor had spewed out of her, but he heard himself mumble, “No.”   


“I’ll be back tomorrow. Goodbye,” Dr. Green said, taking her laptop and the chords with her as she left, the nurse that had been quietly standing in the corner of the room leaving as well.  Tony realized that Peter’s hand was still in his, and Peter must’ve realized the same thing, because he quickly let go and dropped his hand into his lap. Pepper let out a sigh, running her hand through her slightly disheveled hair. “I’m sorry, Tony.”

He just nodded. He felt numb all over, and it wasn’t because of his nerve damage. He wasn’t going to be the same when he left the hospital room tomorrow. He didn’t know if any of them would.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: mentions of past alcohol abuse
> 
> I went back and edited two previous chapters as my dumb self forgot that you can't really diagnose concussions until after a person is conscious. So when Dr. Green is talking about pain in the head and Tony mentions that in chapter 9, know that they hadn't yet diagnosed him with a concussion!! Hope that clears up any confusion:)
> 
> I talked about the nerve test that Tony had in the last chapter's notes - hopefully what's happening is clear! Also, I have no idea what it means if the test comes out as 0, if it is inconclusive or anything like that as Google did not have any answers there, so that's why his last numbers are low but not 0 - just know that Tony's shoulder is reallllyyyy f-ed up. 
> 
> Thank you guys so much for all your support on this story so far!! I know I keep saying it, but the hospital stay is almost over!! I promise this time;) I originally wrote this chapter from Peter's POV, but I really hated it so I restarted it - I think it turned out much better this way! Now that Tony's awake and knows what's happening, there will be more chapters in his POV, as his recovery process, including his own mental health, is a huge part of this story. Fyi, Tony has definitely not processed the fact that his arm is gone - so don't worry, he's far from fine;))))) The next chapter will be up in a few days!! Thanks for reading:) Leave a comment if you'd like!


	11. Uprooted

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Check the end for TW if you need to!

Peter didn’t know what to think. The problem was, there were so many thoughts swirling around in his head, overwhelming him. He had to remind himself to breathe every few seconds when Dr. Green had been in the room, and even though she was gone, it wasn’t much better. Her medical jargon could no longer distract him from his own inner turmoil.

By the time that Dr. Green had left the second time this morning, it was around noon. The sun beat through the windows, and Peter yearned to be out of the hospital room again, swinging through the streets of Queens, feeling the wind cut through the thin suit as the adrenaline rushed through his body. 

He inhaled sharply as the reminder of May’s death hit him like a truck. Would he even get to be Spider-Man after this? Based on what Pepper had told him, the Starks didn’t live close to the city. They lived in some secluded cabin, away from any other people. He had thought the drive from the upstate facility was bad, but for them to be living what was probably hours away from his home? There was no way that he could protect Queens from there.

If he couldn’t protect Queens, and be their friendly-neighborhood Spider-Man, there was no way that the people in his borough would be safe. Honestly, the local police were shit, and on a good night, he would sometimes stop almost 20 robberies and muggings.

People were going to get hurt and maybe even  _ die  _ because of him. 

_ How is that surprising? I mean, Mr. Stark got hurt because of you. May died because of you. It’ll just be more casualties due to Peter Parker being a screw-up. Even if you did help, you’d just make things worse. Face it: you’ve only had a few successes, but countless failures. Maybe you should stay away from Queens. They’ll be better off without you. _

The battle that was ensuing inside him felt like it was ripping him apart. If he wasn’t Spider-Man, countless might get hurt or die. But if he was Spider-Man, he could just make things worse. He felt his hands wind into his hair again and start to pull  _ hard.  _

He jumped as the door to the room opened, his hands quickly landing back in his lap. A woman walked in carrying a tray, setting it down on Mr. Stark’s nightstand. She extended the table so that the tray was right above Mr. Stark’s lap. On it was a glass of water with a long straw, a small bowl of oatmeal, a small plastic cup of mandarin oranges, and a cup of vanilla pudding. 

“Enjoy,” she said, before quickly leaving the room as abruptly as she entered.

Peter could tell that Mr. Stark was starving, as he quickly picked up the spoon with his left hand. But as he started to pick it up, it clattered back down onto the tray. Pepper quickly leaned over and picked it up for him, putting it back into his shaking hand. He was clearly embarrassed, but he grumbled out a small “thanks” as he tried again. This time, he managed to keep the spoon in his hand as he scooped out some oatmeal and put it into his mouth. 

Peter watched Mr. Stark eat slowly, taking his time to chew and swallow. The muscles in his mentor’s face were weak, so it took him a long time to eat a single bite of food. After about thirty minutes, he set down his spoon, having consumed most of what was on his tray. 

“How do you feel, Tony?” Pepper asked quietly, moving the table off of her husband’s lap. 

He was quiet for a second before he looked up at her, confusion on his face. “What?”   


“I asked how you feel,” Pepper repeated, taking Mr. Stark’s hand in hers. 

“Oh...tired.” 

“Then sleep. Let your body rest.”

He just nodded, his eyes closing. He was out instantly, his stomach rising and falling slowly. Pepper gently let go of her husband’s hand, leaning forward and kissing his left cheek gently. She turned to Peter. He suddenly felt very self-conscious, now that her attention was away from her husband and on him.

“How about we go and get some lunch, Peter? It’s been a long morning. We should get out of this hospital room.”

“I-I’m okay.”

“It’s been a long time since you’ve eaten. You’re coming.” Pepper’s tone had a sense of finality, so he just nodded, thankful that his head no longer hurt from his fall a few days ago. As soon as he stood up though, the dizziness was back and he had a new headache, most likely from the lack of food he was eating and keeping down.

He did his best to walk quickly after Pepper, but he couldn’t keep up with her. She slowed down and waited for him, her face worried. 

“What’s going on, Peter? Are you feeling okay?”   


He nodded and managed to give her a half-smile. “Just hungry.”   


She didn’t look convinced, but she kept walking, Peter next to her, to the elevator. He stumbled in, gripping the bars, his knuckles white as the elevator moved down. He started swaying, the room spinning as he stepped into the hallway. Pepper put her arm around him and was basically holding him up as they walked to the cafeteria. 

Black spots danced across his vision, and he thankfully made it into the cafeteria, where Pepper made him sit down immediately at one of the tables. “What do you want to eat, Peter?” she asked, her hand on his shoulder.

His stomach was in knots, but he knew that if he wanted to avoid passing out again, he would have to eat something. “Could I have soup, please?”

“Are you sure you don’t want something with a little more sustenance?” she asked, surprised.

“No thank you.”   


“Okay. Don’t go anywhere; I’ll be right back.”

He wanted to laugh as he watched her walk away. He didn’t think he could go anywhere if he tried. He felt too weak. It was exhausting to even keep his head up, so he leaned it against his hand, his elbow resting on the table.

The cafeteria lights were too bright, the air full of too many scents. His mouth tasted like acid. His senses felt like they were sensitive to everything, like they were ramped up to a 20 instead of his usual 11. He squinted, trying to dim down the blinding lights. At least in the hospital room the lights were dimmed down to help Mr. Stark sleep. 

Pepper came back with a tray in her hands. She pushed him two different kinds of soup, and he chose one at random, slowly starting to eat. As soon as he swallowed for the first time, his stomach lurched, and he had to keep himself from immediately vomiting it back up. No. He could do this. It was likely Pepper wasn’t going to let him leave until he ate something. So he forced down the soup, swallowing each spoonful painfully.

“I’ve been talking to Rhodey, and I think we’ve found a suitable option for where we’re going to live for now, at least until Tony’s healed,” Pepper started, setting her fork down. “Before he went to take care of Morgan, Rhodey went to go look at a few different places in the city, not far off from where the tower used to be. We’ve narrowed it down, and after Tony wakes up again, I’ll get his opinion on which one.”

Peter couldn’t believe it. It sounded like his problem of living away from Queens was getting solved for him. While he still didn’t know what the right decision was, whether he should be Spider-Man or not, at least he could make the decision based on his own thoughts and not external factors.  _ Fuck. _

“Is Morgan going to be okay with the move?” 

“I hope so. We’ll probably keep the cabin, so it’ll now be like a weekend thing or vacation to get to go there. I don’t want her whole life to feel like it’s about to be uprooted, but the fact is that it probably is,” Pepper said grimly, taking a sip of her water. 

“What do you mean?”

“I can’t imagine that we’ll be able to homeschool her, not at least for a while, so she’ll probably be going to a preschool in a few weeks. The move itself is going to be stressful, obviously. And she’s going to be seeing her father as she hasn’t before. Morgan idolizes him. It’s going to give her some unwanted perspective on how the real world works. I just wish she were older.”

Peter’s throat felt thick, and the backs of his eyes stun with tears. God, he hadn’t imagined what this would be like for Morgan. He really hoped that she wouldn’t turn out to be as much of a mess as he was. His parents had died when he was around her age. His uncle had died when he wasn’t much older. And now…

He blinked hard, pushing down that thought. He couldn’t go there. Not now. He continued eating his soup, looking down at the bowl so he wouldn’t have to meet Pepper’s piercing eyes. He finally finished the bowl, his stomach feeling awful. Pepper finished her meal as well, and she and Peter were soon walking back to Mr. Stark’s room. 

He did feel a little less dizzy, but in turn his stomach felt like it was on fire. They made it back to her husband’s room without Peter almost passing out, and took their seats on Mr. Stark’s left side, where it was a little easier for Pepper to reach him. 

When Pepper pulled out her phone, answering text messages and emails, Peter was ready to do what he had been doing for the past few days, sit there and try not to think, but Pepper quietly said, “Peter? Can you do me a favor?”

“What?” Peter’s voice felt small.

“Can you text Michelle back? She texted Tony a few times, although I don’t know for sure where she could’ve gotten his number. She’s worried about you, Peter.”

He swallowed hard, whispering, “Okay.”

The phone seemed like a brick in his hand as he slowly pulled up his text messages. Everything in him was telling him to put the phone back away, that he was just making things worse by replying, but he couldn’t let Pepper down. Not again.

_ Are you okay? _

The words seemed to penetrate deep into his mind, swarming through him over and over again. He wasn’t okay. But if he told MJ that she would worry, and then he would get her worked up over something he should be able to handle himself. He just needed to get a grip. He didn’t want to worry her about something so stupid. 

Peter clicked out of her message and instead went to the call log. As expected, there were tons of voicemails from Ned, dating back to before the snap and recently as well. Ned had called a few hours ago. He scrolled past that. 

What stood out to him was the fact that MJ had called him yesterday.  _ MJ  _ had called him. His legs carried him out to the hallway as he muttered an excuse to Pepper, and to a bench a few doors down. Although it was the early afternoon, there weren’t many nurses or visitors in the hall, just the nurse at the front desk down the hall towards the elevator. 

She didn’t leave him a voicemail, but that was expected. His fingers shook as he clicked on her contact, pressing the phone button. Instantly, the phone began dialing, and he had to force the phone up to his right ear. He felt his left hand in his hair, already pulling, but he couldn’t control it enough to stop.

After a few rings, MJ answered. He seriously contemplated hanging up right then, but her voice tensely said, “Peter?”

His eyes squeezed shut for a moment, before he opened them and let out a shaky breath. “H-Hi MJ.”

“What’s going on?” 

He could tell she was trying to sound nonchalant, but he heard the edge of worry to her voice. Peter bit his lip and was quiet for a minute, but MJ wasn’t the type of person to push him. She was quiet as she waited for an answer. 

“Um...I-” he choked as the words wouldn’t come out. He opened his mouth to try again, but MJ just quietly said, “I’m sorry about May, Peter. It sucks. If you need anything, I’m here.”

His mouth was agape. How did she always do that? Whenever Peter would try and say anything, it was like she could predict the future. In this moment though, Peter was thankful. 

He didn’t say anything, trying to figure out how to respond, when her voice got louder again, back to the MJ he knew. “Want to hear about what happened to Mr. Harrington?”

Peter nodded, then croaked out a small, “yes,” when he remembered she couldn’t see him. She went off into her story, about how their science teacher’s wife had pretended to disappear but instead ran off to be with another guy. A startled laugh escaped him when she described Mr. Harrington’s use of emojis, and he jumped at the oddness of the noise. He hadn’t laughed in a long time. 

After a few minutes of MJ catching him up on what Mr. Harrington had sent out to the decathlon team in a very personal email most likely meant for someone else, she let out a small sigh.

“Call Ned, Peter. He’s been blowing up my phone and frankly, I’ve already blocked him once. I don’t want to have to do that again.”

“I-”

“See you soon, loser,” she said, and then she hung up the phone. 

Peter stared at his phone with a mix of humor and disbelief. It was incredible how MJ could do that. He smiled, his cheeks hurting a bit. He was lucky to have a friend like her. 

Ned’s contact stuck out on the screen, and Peter’s finger hesitated. He clicked back to his messages. Ned had texted him at 12:04.

_ N: dude please answer _

_ N: i need to know if ur okay _

Guilt washed over him again, and he quickly typed:  _ im okay  _ and pressed “send,” before he could stop himself. Immediately, dots appeared to show that Ned was typing.

_ N: peter!! whats going on?? why did u disappear?? did u get turned to dust again?? _

His phone clattered to the ground, his left hand finally pulling out a chunk of his hair. He couldn’t do this. There were so many questions. How could he stop Ned from asking about things he  _ couldn’t _ talk about?

He took a deep breath and picked up his phone, putting the hair he had pulled out into his pocket. He could do this. He ignored the pain in the side of his head and typed out his response. 

_ P: sorry dude - im at the hospital w mr stark _

_ N: is he ok???  _

_ P: not yet but he will b soon _

_ N: why aren’t u w may? _

Peter hesitated. No. He had to respond. He was only hurting Ned by not responding. Ned deserved to know. 

_ P: im gonna live w the starks now. may died _

Ned’s number ran across his screen, and he quickly pressed the red button. He quickly typed out an explanation. 

_ P: i cant call now sorry _

He felt disgusting for keeping his friend out, but he didn’t think he could talk to Ned without breaking down. As it was, his left hand had already pulled another chunk out, but at least he wasn’t having a panic attack. That was good.

_ N: im really sorry peter. I know how much she meant to u. call me when u can tho - my condolences dont really feel genuine over text _

He slid his phone back into his left pocket, his left hand loosening its tight grip on the pulled-out hair enough for it to be tucked into his right pocket with the other hair.

_ Ned’s going to be worried about you, because you won’t talk to him. You talked to MJ. When he finds out that you talked to her but not to him, he’s going to stop being your friend. You don’t even care about him, do you? _

_ I do _ , Peter thought desperately, but the voice just grew louder, spinning his mind in circles.

_ Talking to him is such a burden to you. But you don’t get to think that. Because you’re the real burden. To MJ, to Ned, to Tony, to Pepper, to everyone. You were a burden to Ben. He didn’t want a kid, but he got stuck with you. And don’t even get started on May. She was forced to raise a kid that wasn’t even related to her. You didn’t make it easy for her, did you? And she’s gone because she was so fucked up after raising you that she couldn’t take it anymore. Gone. Because of you. _

His breathing picked up, his heart rate increased, and his eyes squeezed shut.  _ Stop it,  _ he told himself, trying to calm down as both hands were back in his hair, pulling.  _ Pepper could come out at any moment.  _ But his body didn’t seem to listen to that small part of him that was trying to control it. It instead listened to the repeating mantra of the hissing voice inside his skull. 

_ You are a burden. You are a burden. You are a burden.  _

The words bounded in his skull, over and over again, echoing inside as two chunks of his hair ripped out, pain exploding on the sides of his head. The voice ceased as Peter’s eyes opened, bloody hair in his shaking hands. It almost looked fake, as if he had pulled it off of a child’s doll. But the pain in his head reminded him of its realness, pulling him back to reality. 

Peter tucked the hair into his pocket and pulled up the hood of his sweatshirt, walking the other direction of the hospital room, into the elevator and down a few floors. He walked into the gift shop, pulling out a crumpled $20 that he had found in his pants from before he disappeared, something May had probably given him at some point for dinner that he forgot to eat. He soon found what he was looking for. 

The man behind the counter didn’t seem fazed as he gave Peter a bright smile. 

“Just this for you today?”

He nodded, his eyes downcast to the floor.

“That’ll be $7.50.”

Peter slid over the bill and took back the change and the item, as the man’s cheerful voice echoed, “Have a nice day!”

He quickly made his way back up to the hospital room, stopping outside the door to pull down his hood and pull on the black beanie that had the message, “I’m a fighter!” printed across the front. He turned it around backwards so that the script was in the back. The blood wouldn’t show through the dark material.

The mantra was back, hissing in his ears as he took a seat again, shaking off Pepper’s questioning look.

_ You are a burden.  _   


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Hair-pulling, panic attacks
> 
> Please don't be mad at Peter for not talking to Ned but talking to MJ - Ned is a great friend, but he's not exactly the calmest person while MJ would be able to give Peter the distraction he wants. I promise that Ned and Peter will talk soon! Also, MJ definitely knows Peter is Spider-Man in this story, so that kinda explains why she would be worried about him. 
> 
> The next chapter will feature all of them finally leaving the hospital! I now have a general idea of where this is going after they leave with the secondary plot, but there's still a few things I need to figure out, so bear with me! 
> 
> Sorry that my updates are kinda random! I work a lot, so on my scattered days off is when I find time to edit, which is why I don't really have a set update time. Just know that updates will be out at least once a week, more if I'm able to. 
> 
> Thanks for reading! I can't thank you all enough for all your support on this, from leaving kudos to comments to just plain reading it, I appreciate you all so much:) This is definitely my biggest writing project so far (I'm already over 30,000 words, like what??), so your support means everything:,)


	12. Leaving

“You should be good to go, Mr. Stark!” Dr. Green said, closing the lid of her laptop. Tony breathed out a sigh of relief. He knew that his face had been tense the entire time that she had been observing his injuries, asking him questions, and typing things down on her computer. 

“Please just remember what I told you: get plenty of rest, no loud noises or bright lights to help keep the concussion from flaring up, let your wife apply the medication to your burns, and to not attempt to walk until you’ve gone to physical therapy. Do you have any questions?”

“Nope,” he replied quickly, aching to leave. Although he had only been conscious in the hospital for a few days, it felt like years since he’d seen his kid. Even though he wasn’t happy about not getting to go back home, he wasn’t about to argue with Pepper about it. He may have freaked out a little, but he was just ready to leave. At this point, he didn’t really care where he was going. 

“Thank you Dr. Green. My husband and I really appreciate all that you’ve done for us and our family,” Pepper said, reaching out to shake her hand.

The doctor took it and shook firmly, looking Pepper in the eyes. “Of course. It was my pleasure. I’ll see you both back here in two days to check on everything, correct?”

“That’s right.”

“See you soon.” Dr. Green picked up her computer, nodding at Peter as she left. Tony didn’t miss how Peter barely even glanced up at her, his gaze mostly focused on the ground. Tony wasn’t the only one that this hospital stay had affected. He hoped Peter would feel like himself again once they were back in the city, where Peter was most comfortable.

He was snapped out of his thoughts as a nurse arrived in the room, wheeling a wheelchair. Tony looked up at Pepper with an eyebrow raised, and she gave him a pointed look back. He let out a small grunt as the nurse helped him from the bed to the wheelchair. Tony refused to admit how much the nurse had basically been carrying him. 

Pain shot through his hip and he had to stifle a groan as he settled in. Pepper looked like she was about to call him out on it, but she instead just pursed her lips as they began to wheel out of the room and down the hall. 

Tony didn’t fail to notice the awed expressions he got by the medical staff, who had just witnessed a celebrity as he went by. He was suddenly very glad that Pepper made him put on actual clothing and that the nurses had re-bandaged his face before they left. Pepper had helped him put on the sweatpants and sweatshirt, and at the time he had ignored the fact that the right sleeve dangled awkwardly with no arm to fill it. Pepper had thrown a blanket over his torso that she had pulled out of her seemingly magical bag, covering up the loose sleeve. Even though his nerves were shot on his right side, anytime his fingertips would accidentally brush it, they would jerk back as if the sleeve were on fire. 

He knew that he hadn’t processed the fact that he was an amputee yet. He had been pushing the fact to the back of his mind, where he figured that he would deal with it when he had to. But as they rolled out to the car that Happy was driving, waiting in the front, Tony realized that he would be with his daughter soon. Not that he wasn’t looking forward to that, but he didn’t know how he could explain that to her. 

“You ready, Tony?” Tony looked up to see Pepper looking at him expectantly. He just nodded, and to his surprise, when the back door of the car, or rather van, opened, there was a wheelchair ramp. He had no idea where Happy had been able to get an accessible van in that short amount of time.

Pepper pushed him gently up the ramp, strapping the wheels in. He felt his cheeks redden slightly. To say that he hated this would be an understatement. But he pushed down his anger. He wasn’t mad at Pepper, he reminded himself. He was mad at the circumstances that led to him being an object of humiliation. Which was Thanos mostly. 

Pepper sat in the seat next to him, reaching out and placing a hand on Tony’s lap, and Peter took the seat in the back that was directly behind Pepper. Out of the corner of his eye, Tony could see Peter leaning the side of his head against the car’s window, not moving as Happy drove away. Tony frowned slightly. Usually Peter would be excited about going somewhere new. Whenever Tony used to drive Peter to a new restaurant to pick up food after they had been working in the lab all day, Peter would have his head turned to the window the entire time, his eyes darting and trying to memorize any potential new swinging routes for Spider-Man. But now  Tony could tell that Peter wasn’t looking outside. He was staring ahead into Pepper’s headrest, his eyes unfocused. Tony had thought that it was just the hospital that was causing Peter to act oddly, but now he wasn’t so sure. He would have to keep an eye on him.

“We’re here,” Happy said, putting the car into park.

Tony whipped his head up, ignoring the pain caused by the sudden action as he looked around in surprise. They were much closer to the hospital than he’d thought. He felt unease squirm inside of him as he was rolled out of the van by Pepper, and he saw the same thing mirrored on his wife’s face as she stepped to his side to get a better look. 

The building was the average size of an apartment complex, but Tony could tell automatically that it was on the luxurious side as Pepper pushed him in. Happy went over to speak with the man who was seated at the front desk, and the man handed Happy an envelope and shook his hand. Happy led them to the elevator, where they all easily fit despite the wheelchair. The ride to the top was quick, and as Pepper pushed him out, a single wooden door stood in front of them labeled  _ 150 _ . Happy opened the envelope and pulled out a gold key, slipping it into the lock and turning the handle. 

Tony looked around, feeling a little less tense as he took in the room. Even though it was a penthouse, it still somehow had the same “homey” feeling that their cabin had, despite it being more modern. The door opened into the living room, which had a large U shaped dark gray couch with two matching armchairs on either side. There was a fireplace at the end with a coffee table in the middle and a large TV mounted on the wall. Looking over to the right was the dining area, with a brown wooden table, and even further in that direction was the kitchen in the corner, with dark brown cabinets, speckled counter tops, and an island with three tall brown chairs in the center. 

Over to the left was an ajar door that peeked into a bedroom. A set of spiral stairs stood a little off center of the living room, and Tony felt discomfort creep into his mind. How was he supposed to get anywhere?

Pepper followed his field of vision, and she gestured to the side of the room. Against the wall was a smooth metal elevator door. He glanced over at Pepper and she shrugged. “That was one of the necessary things for where we would be living. Rhodey delivered.”

Tony just nodded as Pepper pushed him over to go through the door on the left leading into the hallway on the first floor. There were two doors, one of them across the hall, which was another bedroom, and the other on the side of the wall, which was a bathroom. He was then pushed over to the elevator, where there were three buttons, for the first, second, and third floors of the penthouse. Pepper first pressed the button for the third floor. 

He got rolled out, and they were out in a huge open space that already had a few large boxes in the center. Tony glanced over at Pepper, and she said, “Figured we’d get a head start on moving your things from your workshop.”

He felt his eyes light up. Even though pretty much every part of having to move to the city sucked, at least he’d still get to do what he loved. He felt the slight grin fade off his face as it hit him. How was he supposed to work anymore with one arm? Everything he did he needed two arms for. 

Tony felt the panic setting in, but he shoved it down as they went back into the elevator and down to the second floor. As he was rolled out again, he tried to catch a glimpse of Peter’s face. Just like on the ride over, it had no expression, just blank and almost empty. Tony wasn’t sure that Peter was even looking around. 

Pepper must’ve noticed the same thing, because she said, “Peter, this will be your room,” as she opened one of the doors in the hall. Peter’s eyes seemed to flicker up for a second and look around, but his eyes were unfocused as he stared forwards. 

“Thank you,” he droned, sounding robotic and very unlike himself. Tony didn’t miss the look Pepper gave him. 

“You’re welcome,” she replied, a slightly nervous look on her face. “There’s another bedroom next door, which will be the guest room, and there’s a bathroom attached to each room.”

The group traveled back down to the first floor and Pepper led them over to the couch in the living room area. She sat down on the edge of a cushion after wheeling Tony next to her, and Happy sat down in the middle of the long couch. Peter perched himself on the very edge of the opposite end.

“I texted Rhodey this morning to bring Morgan over,” Pepper began, looking down at her phone. Tony would be surprised if Pepper  _ didn’t _ have notes taken for this “meeting.” “They should be here in about an hour and a half. A moving truck should be here tomorrow with everything; they’ve been working on getting the house packed up for the past few days, so it shouldn’t be long. They’ll also get everything set up for us too.”

Pepper looked up, tucking her phone away. “Happy, do you think you can help me out at the store? I want to be back before Morgan gets here.”

“Of course,” he said, standing up. “I’m ready to go when you are.”

Pepper smiled at him faintly, but Tony could tell that her stress levels were through the roof. “Will you two be okay for an hour or so?”

Tony nodded, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. He knew that she was probably genuinely worried about leaving a grieving teenager and a recovering amputee alone, but they’d be fine, right?

She pursed her lips, but didn’t argue as she grabbed a smaller bag from her massive purse, and then rummaged around in it some more. She pulled out Tony’s phone and handed it to him, and Tony immediately turned it on, nodding in thanks to his wife. 

“If you need anything, anything at all, call. Got it?”

“Yes, mom,” Tony said, rolling his eyes. Pepper gave him a very threatening look, and he quickly grinned a half smile, softening the hard lines around her eyes slightly. 

“See you both soon.”

“Bye,” Tony said as the door shut, leaving him alone with Peter. Peter continued to stare at the floor, not seeming to notice that Tony was the only person left with him. What had he gotten himself into?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that this was sort of a filler chapter - I promise that there's plenty more angst to come in the next one. I have a few new stories in the works, but they're not quite ready to be seem by the public yet, but I'll keep you guys updated! Thanks for reading!


	13. Morgan's arrival

Peter was hyper-aware of everything. From the way his new hat sat on his head to the slight buzz of the building’s air conditioning, he noticed  _ everything.  _ Which was how he easily noticed the glances that Mr. Stark kept sneaking at him. 

He could tell that Mr. Stark was attempting to be sly about it, as he was scrolling through his newly-acquired phone with his left hand, his eyes down. But every minute or so, Mr. Stark’s brown eyes would shoot a glance in Peter’s direction. Peter didn’t really even need to look up from where his eyes were planted firmly on the ground. The looks were getting so obvious that he could practically feel Mr. Stark’s gaze on him.

The Starks was obviously worried about him. Peter felt Pepper’s eyes on him too up until she left. But he didn’t know how to stop that. He could barely muster up enough energy to keep himself functioning. He didn’t know if he could act the way he used to be on top of that. Part of the problem was that he was stuck inside of his own head, trapped behind the wall of anxiety that was now permanently placed there. He didn’t really remember how it felt to be happy. 

“Pete?”

He slowly lifted his head and tried to put a less miserable expression on his face, but he wasn’t sure if he was successful. Mr. Stark was staring pointedly at him, the phone forgotten in his lap.

“Yes, Mr. Stark?” 

Mr. Stark’s face visibly wavered. His eyes flickered down to his lap before meeting Peter’s again. “Kid, I...Well I just want to prepare you for Morgan.”

Peter felt something inside of him drop, although he wasn’t sure what he had been expecting. Mr. Stark obviously was more worried about Peter’s influence on his  _ real _ kid rather than everything that was going on inside of his brain. 

“Mr. Stark...I-I’m not expecting....I promise…” his voice trailed off. How could he explain to Mr. Stark that he already loved Morgan without even meeting her? That the stories alone already made him feel like a protective older brother?

_ You’re not related to her. Mr. Stark doesn’t see you as her brother, because he doesn’t see you as his son. He’s just going to ask you to stay away from her, to keep your moodiness and all your issues away from her.  _

“Peter, I-”

Suddenly, the doorbell rang, cutting through the puzzled expression on Mr. Stark’s face and breaking through the tension in the room. 

“Doesn’t Pepper have a key?” Mr. Stark asked, frowning slightly. 

Peter stood up, turning quickly towards the door and taking a deep breath. Anything would be a good distraction from having to hear from Mr. Stark about how he wanted to keep Morgan away from him. 

He turned the door knob, opening the door slowly. His face paled. Standing there was Rhodey, holding the hand of a short little girl with big brown eyes just like Mr. Stark’s and dark hair, with a huge grin on her face. 

“Mr. umm Rhodey, sir! I-”

“Are you Peter?” the little girl interrupted, her eyes wide. 

“I-”

“My daddy says that you were lost! Did he find you again? Is that why he went away?”   


“Umm-”

“Morgan,” Rhodey interrupted, “we don’t interrupt, right?”

“Sorry!” Morgan said, not looking guilty in the slightest. 

“Can we come in?” Rhodey asked, and that’s when Peter noticed the Spider-Man suitcase that he was wheeling behind him. 

Peter’s mouth dropped slightly and he nodded, stepping aside and letting them walk in. Morgan looked around for exactly a tenth of a second, before she squealed, “Daddy!” and ran over to Mr. Stark, throwing her arms around his stomach.

Rhodey quickly rushed over, Peter following behind him. Rhodey put a hand on Morgan’s shoulder. “Be gentle, Morgan.”

“Like with puppies?” she asked, looking at her father’s face skeptically. 

“Like with puppies.”

“Oh!” she said, gently patting her dad’s legs. She cooed a little, and Peter could tell that Rhodey was fighting to keep a grin off his face. 

Mr. Stark looked slightly mortified, but mostly amused. “Maguna, I’m not a puppy. Rhodey’s being a dumb dumb.”

“Dumb dumb! Daddy says you’re a dumb dumb!” Morgan giggled, Rhodey’s grin fading off his face. 

“Well, your daddy is-”

Thankfully, Mr. Stark cut him off. “Maguna, this is Peter.”

Peter gave a little wave as the littlest Stark turned toward him, giving him a toothy smile. “I know! I saw him already!”

“Do you remember who Peter is?”

“Spider-Man!” Morgan squealed, running towards Peter and throwing herself at his legs. Peter quickly bent down, hesitantly placing his arms around her. She pulled away after a second and whispered very loudly, “Don’t tell Daddy, but you’re my favorite superhero!”

“Uh, I won’t,” he said weakly, and Peter could tell Mr. Stark heard based on the amused expression that was back on his face. 

Morgan walked back towards her dad and put her arms in the air. “Up!”

Mr. Stark’s grin faltered, replaced by a strained grimace. He quickly smoothed the lines of his face over, and said, his voice breaking slightly, “Sorry, kiddo, I can’t do that right now. But Uncle Rhodey would love to have you sit on his lap.”

Morgan’s face fell, and her eyes started watering. “But I don’t want to sit on his lap. I want to sit on your lap, Daddy!”

Her dad’s face grew even more tense as he tried to say, “I know, sweetheart, but-”

“I want to sit on your lap!” Morgan burst out, erupting into tears. She collapsed onto the floor next to the bottom of the wheelchair. Mr. Stark’s eyes rose to meet Peters, and the pure grief that was in his face was almost too much. So Peter forced a smile and put a hand on Morgan’s shoulder.

“What about my lap, Morgan? Do you want to sit with me?” If his voice sounded a little choked, nobody mentioned it. 

Morgan sniffed and looked up, tears running down her small face as she looked at her dad and back to Peter with a very contemplative look for a little kid on her face. Slowly, she nodded and held her arms up. Peter picked her up easily, but his arms shook slightly with nerves as he sat down, setting her as gently as possible down on his lap facing toward him. 

She flung her arms around him and buried her head into his chest. He absentmindedly stroked her hair, his mind racing. There’s no way that a stranger would be a substitute for a little kid’s parent, especially for their parent that they hadn’t seen for a while. Pepper and Mr. Stark obviously mentioned him to Morgan, as evident with her Spider-Man suitcase and the fact that she recognized him as Peter and Spider-Man, but just how much did they talk about him with her?   


He felt a little glimmer of hope deep down inside of him. Maybe they wanted Peter to hang out with Morgan one day. He rocked Morgan slightly as Rhodey talked quietly with Mr. Stark about what Morgan had been up to the past few days, with a small grin on his face. 

_ Don’t get your hopes up.  _ His smile faded away.  _ You don’t know for sure. Plus, they didn’t try to get you back for five years. Five years. If Mr. Stark really cared about you, wouldn’t he have tried harder to get you back? _

Peter pushed down the hissing voice as Morgan lifted her head from his chest, sliding off his lap and walking back over to Mr. Stark. She looked up at him, her expression much calmer. “Daddy, why are you in that weird chair? And why do you have a blanket? Are you cold? Why can’t I sit on your lap?”

“Maguna, I...Well, I-”

The door opened, and Mr. Stark was interrupted by Happy walking in with an arm full of groceries, closely followed by Pepper with a similar load. 

“Mommy!” 

Morgan seemed to forget her questions as she ran over to her mom. Pepper quickly set the bags on the ground and crouched down, hugging her daughter. If Pepper happened to have tears glistening in the corners of her eyes, nobody in the room mentioned it. 

“I missed you,” Pepper murmured, gently stroking her daughter’s hair for a second, before Morgan pulled away. 

“Mommy! Guess what? I got to sit on Peter’s lap!”

Peter flushed and glanced down at the floor, afraid to meet Pepper’s eyes. He peeked upwards as Pepper said, “That’s wonderful, sweetie! I’m glad you two are getting along!” Her eyes sparkled as she looked at him and smiled.

“When does Peter have to go? I don’t want him to leave yet!”   


“He’s going to live here with us, Maguna,” Mr. Stark chimed in as Pepper carried the bags of food to the kitchen. 

“Really?” Morgan asked, walking back over to her dad. “Like a big brother?”

Peter could see Mr. Stark hesitate for a moment, before he said with a nod, “Like a big brother.”

Peter felt the flush on his cheeks rise again, and he quickly turned away and headed for the kitchen. He started unpacking bags, ignoring Pepper’s protests. 

“It’s okay Pepper. Go talk to Morgan. I’ve got this.”

“Are you sure, Peter? It’s really no big deal.”

He nodded, feeling a little lighter and smiling slightly as Pepper leaned over and put her hand on his shoulder. “Thank you.”

Happy glanced at him, and Peter quickly said, “Go talk to them. I’m okay by myself.”

“Okay,” Happy said with no argument, setting down a bag of paper plates on the island table. 

There was something rhythmically soothing about removing items from the bag and giving it a home in the cupboard with the quiet drone of voices coming from the other room. Peter felt a little tension release from his shoulders as he finally had something to  _ do  _ where he could actually make himself useful. 

Unfortunately, there was nothing distracting him from his own thoughts running freely in his mind. Mr. Stark seemed to be okay with Peter hanging out with Morgan. But that didn’t mean that Peter was going to have a home here permanently. The look on Mr. Stark’s face before he had told Morgan that she would be having an older brother made it seem like he wasn’t completely set on that decision.And Peter had nowhere else to go. 

Mr. Stark and Pepper already suspected that there was something going on with him. If they knew how  _ insane  _ he already was, there was no way that they would want to keep him. Nobody willingly takes a moody, depressed, anxious mess of a teenager. 

The way that Pepper seemed to like when he volunteered to help out, with the smile and hand on his shoulder. The way that Mr. Stark and Pepper both adored their daughter. If Peter wanted to stay here and actually have a sense of permanence in his life, he would need to be a kid that they would actually want to have. 

Peter finished putting away the last of the groceries, the peanut butter and bread, and looked into the reflection of the microwave door. He took in his dark circles, the hat that hid his bloody mess of a scalp, the paleness of his face, and bloodshot eyes. If he couldn’t fix any of that, the best he could do is hide it. 

He squeezed his eyes shut and opened them wide again, rubbing at them slightly, and pinched his cheeks a little to give his face some color. Peter took a deep breath and headed back out into the living room, determined to do this one thing right. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to make one thing clear about this chapter- Peter's thought process is not helpful towards his recovery!! Please note that Peter is a scared and traumatized child, and that his perception of grown-ups' attitudes towards him is not accurate in the slightest. A parent's love is unconditional, but Peter thinks that in his case it is conditional (which is very untrue). So please keep that in mind:) 
> 
> I changed the warnings of this story from "no archive warnings apply" to choosing not to use an archive warning. I don't know yet how in depth I'm going to go in the future with a few things, so to be safe I changed the warning. The only thing that might change with that is that it could get changed to having graphic depictions of violence, but I'll let you all know if that happens.
> 
> Thank you for all your support for this story! Sometimes it's hard to keep writing something this depressing (although I think I was nice in giving you a little domestic fluff today), and seeing the love you're all giving this story really helps, so thank you:,)


	14. Sleepless

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Check the end for TW! Once the italics start, that's the beginning of Peter's POV

“Pep, I don’t want to speak too soon, but I think Peter is doing better,” Tony murmured, ignoring the slight pain in his hip as he shifted in bed. It was their second night at the new house, and Tony didn’t want to speak out loud about how it had been going in fear of jinxing it. Yesterday had actually been  _ good _ after Pepper had gotten back. Peter had come out of the kitchen after putting the food away with a hesitant smile on his face, but had volunteered to play with Morgan for most of the afternoon. His daughter had shown Peter her Spider-Man coloring book that Rhodey had brought along, and Peter had even watched her while Pepper was putting Tony’s medicine on him. After dinner, Morgan sat on Peter’s lap almost the entire time that the two of them watched “Moana,” Morgan’s favorite Disney movie. Then today the two of them were almost inseparable, Morgan’s giggles echoing from her new room for most of the day. 

Pepper smiled at him, gently taking his left hand in hers. “Hopefully this is a step in the right direction and not a step back.”

“What do you mean?” Tony asked, furrowing his eyebrows slightly. 

“There’s always the possibility that this is temporary, that he’s only pretending to be better.”   


“It seemed genuine, Pep,” Tony whispered, shutting his eyes as sleep began to call him. The last thing that he heard her say before drifting off to sleep was, “Is it? Or is that just what you’re hoping to see?”   


***

Tony jerked awake, gasping as he clutched his chest with his left hand. He glanced at Pepper’s sleeping form beside him, and let out a soft grunt as he shifted into a sitting position. He probably wasn’t supposed to do that without help.

He glanced over at his phone sitting on the nightstand next to him, the display reading  _ 3:04.  _ It would be at least three hours before Morgan woke up, four hours if they were lucky. Tony tried laying back down and closing his eyes again, desperate to fall back asleep, but they kept flashing across his closed eyelids. Images that still haunted him: the ones that Wanda had shown him so long ago now, getting a moon thrown at him, and seeing Peter fall away to dust through his fingers. And now...Tony glanced down at his right side, feeling his chest tighten. He gasped as it felt as if a heavy weight were pushing against his chest, against his throat. Tony choked as he shook his head to clear it, pain shooting through his skull.

He resolutely sat up, seeing black spots dance across his vision as he managed not to fall over in the process, though his left arm burned slightly from having to bear all his weight. The pillows behind him supported his back as he picked up his phone, fumbling with it as he struggled to keep it in his hand. If he wasn’t going back to sleep, the least he could do is get some work done. He had so much work to do. 

***

_ May was within his grasp, squatting on the edge of his bedroom window. She almost looked like him when he would leave to go patrolling, but there was something...off about her face. Something didn’t feel right.  _

_ “May, what are you doing? It’s dangerous,” he called, reaching out a hand to tug her back into his bedroom. But she just glanced back at him, her eyes unfamiliar as she let go of the ledge without a word, sending her body tumbling out of the eighth story window.  _

_ He let out a scream as she slipped through his fingers, which had just grasped the back of her shirt, ripping fabric into his hands. He didn’t want to look. Tears poured down his face as he glanced out onto the sidewalk below, but there was nothing there. She was gone.  _

Peter shot up, rigid, as he tried not to scream, holding back the dam of tears threatening to be released. He put a fist over his mouth, biting the skin on his finger as he let out pitiful, tiny whimpers, streams of water running down his face. 

His mind replayed the scene over and over again, unrelenting as his breathing sped up, making his breath puff out in small gasps. He wasn’t sure how long it had been, but when his eyes were finally dry, when his breathing finally slowed down, he glanced over at his phone:  _ 3:31. _

His left hand felt stiff with tension, when he realized only then that it had wound itself into his hair. He quickly released it, but the damage was already done. Small clumps of bloody hair were on his lap, on his Iron Man pajama bottoms that Mr. Stark had made fun of him for earlier last night.  _ Shit. _

The hair was quickly wrapped in a tissue and thrown away in the adjoining bathroom’s trash can. Peter ignored the fact that it already had multiple tissues in it, all hiding the same thing. He flipped on the bathroom light, the harshness causing him to squint as he tried to assess the damage. He sighed, biting his bottom lip. Another spot that would have to be covered by his hat. Thankfully, it was in the style of kids his age to wear hats constantly. 

Peter turned on the sink, pooling cold water in his hands and then splashing it onto his face. He then wet another tissue slightly, dabbing at the two new spots that were added to the growing collection of them on his scalp. He would have to wear that hat for the rest of his life at this rate. There were over a dozen small patches, ranging from ones being so well hidden that he needed to pull back his hair to see, to the worst one of all. It was the size of a half-dollar coin and had been the victim of multiple hair-pullings by now, one of the victims of his most recent attack. 

He let out a hiss as he dabbed at it, the scab picked off again somewhere in the process of pulling out the hair. After cleaning it up enough, where it wouldn’t be dripping blood onto his new bedsheets, Peter wrapped the bloody tissue in a clean one, and buried it in the trash. 

Peter sank back into his bed, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes. God, he was so…tired...but there was no way he could go back to sleep. Tears jumped back into the corners of his eyes. He had tried to sleep. For Pepper and Tony and Morgan. So they wouldn’t be worried about him anymore. But look where that had gotten him. 

He angrily wiped the corners of his eyes, not letting the tears escape. Tendrils seemed to rise within him, calling him to sink into his harboring guilt, but he pushed them back down, walking over and flipping on the light to his bedroom. If he wasn’t sleeping, he might as well do something productive. 

Boxes lined the walls of the room, stacked with his belongings from May and apparently some things that Pepper had ordered for him that had all arrived today on the moving truck. The moving crew had managed to get everything off and into the apartment, but the crew that Pepper had hired to help unpack wouldn’t come until tomorrow...or at this point, today. He could at least get a head start on that.

Peter started ripping open boxes as quietly and as gently as possible, soon opening all of them and methodically scanning each of their contents so he knew where to start. He had so much work to do. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: hair pulling 
> 
> I didn't know the direction I wanted to take for this chapter until I started writing it, and I ended up with a sort of duality that I had no intention on doing, but there ya go:)
> 
> I'll put this note in the next few chapters, since I'm currently typing this after this chapter has been published, but I changed Peter's age from 17 to 16 so that it would make sense with the timeline. We're gonna say that this is taking place in April, and Peter's birthday is in August, so he'll be 16. Sorry for any confusion! Please let me know if I missed any mentions of his age - I went back and changed the ones I could catch! 
> 
> Yes, that is a Hamilton reference for all the theater lovers out there:)
> 
> Thanks for reading! See you all soon...:)


	15. Morgan's realization

“Tony, how long have you been up?” 

Tony glanced over at his wife, who was blinking blearily as she slowly sat up next to him. He set his phone back onto the nightstand next to him. “For a while,” he confessed, and quickly added, “Don’t worry. I’m okay,” when she frowned. 

“You need sleep.”

“I know, Pep, but I tried. I...I just couldn’t...not with-” Tony clamped his mouth shut, feeling his face flush. 

“Were your nightmares back?” Pepper asked quietly after a moment, putting her hand on his thigh. He nodded, and she leaned over and kissed his cheek. “I’m here if you want to talk about it.”

He nodded again, his throat feeling oddly constricted. Pepper studied him for a moment, before swinging her legs over the side of the bed and standing up. She rummaged through one of the open boxes of clothes and pulled out her bathrobe, tying around her waist as she walked over to Tony’s side of the bed. 

He braced himself as she helped him down into the wheelchair, hissing as the area between his thigh and abdomen ached. “Sorry,” Pepper murmured, handing him his phone from the nightstand. She wheeled him out of the room and into the bathroom, where he felt the slightest bit of humiliation chime in that came from needing help onto the toilet. 

After both of them had finished, Pepper wheeled him into the living room, where Tony picked up his Starkpad that had been sitting on the coffee table. He heard the apartment begin to liven up as Morgan padded out of her room, rubbing her eyes as she held Pepper’s hand. His heart jumped a little at the sight. He never got used to seeing his family able to do domestic things. For a long time he never even envisioned having a family. 

Morgan let out a yawn as she walked over to Tony, blinking up at him. Her eyes widened as he watched her eyes take in the empty sleeve. 

_Shit._ He looked up at Pepper in a panic, and her eyes widened as she realized their mistake. Every other day so far, they had been able to hide the fact that his arm was gone with a carefully placed blanket. He and Pepper had discussed that they wouldn’t tell Morgan, not until they found out if he could get a prosthetic, which they were potentially finding out today. He didn't want Morgan to find out her dad would never have an arm again if he could just make himself a new arm. It could’ve softened the blow a little.

“Daddy? What happened to your arm?” Morgan asked, her eyes huge as her little hands grabbed at the bit of fabric hanging down from his right shoulder. 

He looked at Morgan, and then back to Pepper, his mouth agape, trying to figure out what to say. But the only thing he could think was _I’ve fucked up._

When he didn’t answer, Morgan asked again, her voice louder, “Daddy? Where’s your arm?”

“Maguna, I-my...my arm was lost,” he started, focusing on keeping himself calm. He didn't want to traumatize her any further. “Remember when Mommy and I were gone awhile? I got sick, and to get better, my arm had to go.”

“B-But where did it go?” Morgan asked, nothing but confusion on her face. “When will it be back?”

“We don’t know, kiddo. It might be gone forever, but I might get a new arm.”

“But Daddy, how will you pick me up?” she asked, placing a little hand on his left arm. 

“I...I-” Tony’s voice broke off as he felt his throat tighten. How could he tell her that _he_ didn’t know the answer to that either? That he had been pushing that thought to the back of his mind for the past few days because he couldn’t bear the idea of not being the dad he once was. What was he supposed to say?

“Morgan, your dad is a superhero! He doesn’t need both arms to pick you up. I can pick you up with just one arm, see?” 

Tony looked up to see Peter there. Peter, wonderful Peter, who had scooped up Morgan with just his left arm under her butt, and spun her around as she held onto his neck and shrieked. Pepper laughed as Morgan screamed, “Again!” and Peter spun her around and around a few more times. 

He felt a smile break through his pained expression, melting away his internal breakdown as he got himself back under control. As Peter set down a giggling Morgan, Tony wasn’t sure if he had ever been so thankful for the kid in his life. 

“So, if I can lift you up with one arm, do you think your dad could too?” Peter asked, smiling down at Morgan. 

She looked up at Peter and then at Tony, her little eyes narrowed with thought. “Yeah!” she yelled, running over to Tony and giving his midsection a huge hug. He wrapped his arm around her and looked up at Peter, amazement in his eyes. He mouthed, “Thank you” at Peter, hoping he got the message. Peter just gave him a small smile, before turning and heading toward the kitchen. Tony would have to do something to thank him. Peter was such a good kid. 

***

Peter leaned heavily against the kitchen island, practically giving the granite all his weight. He gripped the sides as his knees buckled. Sweat trickled down the side of his head, and the room spun when he looked up. Doing all that spinning was not a good idea. He was surprised he made it all the way to a room with a door without falling over. Honestly, he probably shouldn’t have been able to get out of bed this morning in the first place. 

When was the last time he ate? Dinner last night, right? He struggled to remember what they had. They ordered pizza, that’s right. He hadn’t been able to cut the pizza into little pieces like he had with dinner the previous night, so he had forced himself to eat. Which had landed him in his bathroom immediately after supper, puking his guts out, almost to the point of blacking out as he had shakily gripped the sides of the toilet. So the last time he had eaten anything that had stayed down? He wasn’t sure. 

He glanced over at the closed cabinet doors, knowing they possessed something that he needed but couldn’t have, almost like an elixir that would cure a sickness that was just out of reach. Peter reached one hand up and pulled down the sides of his beanie, keeping his hair from escaping.

When he had dressed this morning, he had almost had a panic attack at the sight of his ribs protruding through his skin before he had pulled on a shirt. He knew that he was unhealthy. He knew he was sick. But to admit to Mr. Stark and Pepper, who were giving him everything, that he couldn’t even eat right now, would be a sure way to end up in foster care. And he couldn’t do that. He didn’t think he would make it out of that system at all, much less unscathed. 

Peter pushed himself off of the counter, blinking hard to try and clear his vision as he retrieved a few paper bowls and two boxes of cereal, Cheerios and Special K, and poured a few bowls for the Starks. He felt guilt rise up in him as he placed a clean paper bowl in the trash. 

He grabbed the three bowls and stepped out of the kitchen, plastering a less miserable look on his face. He handed the bowl of Cheerios to Morgan, who smiled up at him, “Thanks Peter!”

“You’re welcome,” he said, returning her smile with one of his own. He then handed Mr. Stark and Pepper each a bowl of Special K, and sat down next to Morgan on the couch. 

“Where’s your breakfast?” Morgan asked suspiciously, missing her mouth with her spoon and spilling Cheerios onto the floor. He quickly picked up the ones she spilled and replied, “I already ate it,” trying to seem as truthful as possible. Even though the guilt felt like a knife to the gut, eating felt so much worse. He could deal with the guilt that came with lying to avoid the alternative.

Morgan babbled on about the newest episode of “PJ Masks” that she had watched with Peter yesterday, looking over at him for confirmation on how funny a few moments were. His heart warmed at her little brown eyes, exactly like her father’s, wide with excitement as she continued to miss her mouth every few spoonfuls. Peter picked up a lot of Cheerios that morning. 

After their breakfast was finished, Peter quickly took everyone’s bowls before Pepper tried to take them herself. He made a move to get up, before Pepper stopped him. 

“Wait a moment, Peter. Sit back down, please.”

He took a seat again, feeling anxiety drum in his chest. Had he done something wrong already? Did they not want that for breakfast? Did they realize he hadn’t actually eaten breakfast? Or worse, had they found the pile of tissues in the garbage in his bathroom?  
  
“Dad and I are going to visit the doctor in a little bit,” Pepper started, and Peter felt something warm fill his chest. Although he knew she was referring to Tony that way for Morgan, and not for him, he still felt something...almost nice at the thought. “Peter, can you watch Morgan? Rhodey will be back from the meeting in DC hopefully tomorrow along with the other Avengers, but until then it'll just be us.”

Peter had almost forgotten about the huge conference in DC, where Rhodey, Dr. Banner, Mr. Wilson, and King T’Challa were meeting to discuss the aftermath of the battle at the Upstate compound and a partnership with Wakanda about reallocating resources to help deal with the 140 million Americans that had just reappeared after five years. Mr. Stark had talked to him about it a little last night. 

He also had learned how Captain Rogers went back to put away the infinity stones, but had reappeared as a very old man. Mr. Stark had looked a little wistful and sad when he told Peter that, so he hadn’t pushed for any more information. 

Pepper was staring at him, and he was jolted out of his thoughts by the realization that he hadn’t answered her. “Yeah, of course. It’s really no problem.”

Relief crossed her face, and she leaned over and gently pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Thank you,” she whispered, and he felt his mouth quirk up in a small smile. 

“No problem.”

An hour later, Pepper stood at the door, her hands on Mr. Stark’s wheelchair. Peter felt a bundle of nerves tight in his stomach, but he took a deep breath. They would only be gone for a few hours. He could watch his sis-...Morgan for them. He could.

“Have fun and be good for Peter, okay Maguna?” Tony said, ruffling Morgan’s hair. 

She whined, “Stop Daddy!” and he chuckled, smoothing out her hair and reaching down with his left arm to wrap around her small torso. He pulled away and Pepper opened the door. 

“Bye!” Tony said, and Pepper said, “Be good,” a moment later.

“Bye Mr. Stark! Bye Pepper!” Peter called as the door closed behind them. He was left staring at the door with a small child standing next to him. He looked down at her and smiled. 

“What do you want to do first, Morgan? Color, play, read…” his voice trailed off as Morgan only stared at him, her eyes wide. He could tell she was about to ask a question before she did. 

“Why do you call Daddy Mr. Stark?”

He felt his cheeks get warm, and he let out a small sigh, crouching down so he was Morgan’s height. “Well, that’s what I’ve always called him.”

“But he’s your daddy too, right? He said you’re my brother.”

“Umm, I…” He shut his mouth. How was he supposed to answer that? He couldn’t just start calling Mr. Stark anything but that, could he? He knew that Mr. Stark probably wouldn’t mind if he called him Tony, but is that something he’d have to ask about first? Or could he just do it and see if Mr. Star-Tony would mind? 

“How about we watch ‘Moana?’” he asked quickly, hoping Morgan would take the bait. 

Thankfully, she was a small child who loved Disney, so she quickly forgot about her questions as they sat down on the couch and turned on the movie. But the thought stayed in the back of Peter’s mind as the movie played, not leaving him alone. Could he just...call Mr. Stark Tony?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I said in the note after the last chapter, I changed Peter's age from 17 to 16 so that it would make sense with the timeline. We're gonna say that this is taking place in April, and Peter's birthday is in August, so he'd be 16. Sorry for any confusion! Please let me know if I missed any mentions of his age - I went back and changed the ones I could catch! 
> 
> I probably addressed all the other Avengers way too late. Basically, canon ending with returning the stones still happens, with Steve choosing to live out his life with Peggy. As a Stucky shipper, I'm very mixed on the ending, but I decided that I didn't want to deviate from the canon plot more than I already have. But there will be some Avengers other than Rhodey making an appearance soon, so stay tuned for that:)
> 
> Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think:) Also, if you think I'm a little low on Tony angst, don't :) worry :) I'll give you some very soon:)))


	16. The Neurologist

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I added some new tags, so please check them for new potential trigger warnings!
> 
> Please check the notes at the end for TW for this chapter

“Are you ready?” Pepper murmured in his ear, pushing his wheelchair through the entrance. 

“No,” he whispered honestly. He wasn’t. Today wasn’t only the appointment with Dr. Green, but they were currently in the lobby of the neurodiagnostics center, where he would find out if he could get a prosthetic or if he would have to live the rest of his life without one. With one arm.

“It’ll be okay. Whatever happens, we’ll get through it together,” she said, smiling at the receptionist as they approached the check-in desk. They soon were led back to the examination room by a nurse, each step that she took seemingly bringing them closer to an impending doom. 

The room they arrived in was small, with an exam table, a standing desk, and a row of cabinets with a counter and sink underneath them. Pepper wheeled Tony over to the table, and the nurse helped her move him from the chair to the table, which was the height of the wheelchair. Then, the nurse pressed a button on the side, and the table lifted slowly so that it was higher by the time a woman with her black hair pulled into a tight bun walked into the room. 

“Good morning, my name is Dr. Ruiz. I’ve been in contact with Dr. Green over the past few days. How are you both doing today?”   
  
“Good,” he said, gesturing to Pepper. “This is my wife, Pepper Potts.”

“Nice to meet you,” she said, reaching out and shaking the doctor’s hand. Tony reached out his left hand and gave the doctor a slightly awkward handshake. 

Dr. Ruiz placed down her laptop on the desk and opened the top, looking up at Tony after a few seconds. “Let’s start by going over your medical history.”

After a painful process of having to try to describe all of his different injuries over the years, including the whole arc reactor incident, she finally said, “Okay, now I’m going to take a look at you,” and stepped over to Tony, rubbing hand sanitizer between her palms as she walked over. 

Pepper pulled away the blanket that was covering Tony’s top half, as they didn’t want the paparazzi to get anything on their way in about his health before there was an official statement made. Tony took the bottom of his shirt and lifted it above his head, Pepper taking it off his arm and setting it off to the side.

As Pepper slowly undid the bandages on his face, he watched in the mirror that hung above the sink on the other side of the room as the marred flesh slowly became more visible. The blisters on his shoulder were better, now just light pink spots. He didn’t look down past his shoulder, but instead upwards at his face. He hadn’t really looked in the mirror at all. He had avoided them, and had kept on a loose covering to his face, even though they weren’t necessary, to keep from scaring Morgan until his face was a bit more healed.

His ear was gone, a jarring hole in the side of his head. Although his skin wasn’t black anymore, as Pepper had told him it had been, it still wasn’t back to normal. There were red lines that were interwoven between the cracked flesh. His skin was impossibly dry, despite the fact that Pepper had been religiously applying the ointment and lotion, along with cleaning the areas as often as she was supposed to. His hair was buzzed on the right side around the burned areas, and Tony let out an internal groan at the fact that he’d have to get that area shaved again that night. 

He finally let his eyes trail down his shoulder. The sutures were dark and jagged, contrasting sharply against his pale skin. With a jolt, he realized that this was the first time he had seen the...amputation in its fullness. Every other time his shoulder was bandaged. When Pepper had changed them, he hadn’t looked down, he couldn’t bear to. But now…

It was almost hypnotizing, staring down at the black marks cutting through his flesh. The flesh where his arm was supposed to be. His mind felt foggy, and he could dully hear a woman’s voice speaking to him, but he wasn’t sure what she was saying or who she was. Why was he here again? He recognized Pepper, but this other woman was new. 

“Mr. Stark?” 

He looked up, blinking slowly, and just nodded, not sure what he was supposed to be saying. Distantly, he saw her walking away from him, and looking to his left he could see that Pepper was talking. But everything was so slow. Was he supposed to be replying?   


“Tony? Are you…” 

There was pressure on his left arm, and he turned his head to look at Pepper fully. She looked worried. Why was she worried? He was fine. He opened his mouth, but all that came out was a wheeze. 

Her eyebrows furrowed deeper, and he felt her hand slip into his. He closed his eyes and then opened them, the world feeling like it was kicking back into focus. Right. He was at the neurologist’s. Dr. Ruiz was his doctor. He avoided looking down at his right side again as he said, “Sorry, what was that? I zoned out for a second.”   


His heart pounded in his chest as he listened to Dr. Ruiz explain the different tests that she wanted to do. He tried to pay attention as much as he could, but to say he was shaken by what had just gone through his head would be an understatement. It was like his mind was there one second, but was gone the next. 

“Does that sound good, Mr. Stark?” 

Tony forced a small smile. “Yep.”

“Were you listening?” Pepper murmured into his ear when Dr. Ruiz was headed over to him. 

“No,” he sighed. He couldn’t lie to Pepper.

“She’s going to do an electromyography test if you’re able to contract any muscles in your shoulder. She’s going to ask you to do some exercises right now to test that.”

Dr. Ruiz stood directly in front of him and twisted her head to the right and left. “Can you do that for me, Mr. Stark?”

He imitated that, and she replied, “Good, now how about this?” while tucking her chin to her chest and lifting it up, before letting it fall back.

He was able to copy it again, and Dr. Ruiz shrugged her shoulders up to her ears. 

When he tried to do that, however, he only felt his left shoulder rising. He strained, trying to feel if he could lift his right shoulder, but after a few seconds, he dropped his left shoulder in defeat. 

“I...I can’t do that one.”

Dr. Ruiz didn’t look surprised; she nodded and reached out her hand, placing it on his right shoulder. “Do you feel that, Mr. Stark?”

He shut his eyes for a moment, trying to concentrate on any feeling of pressure, any feeling whatsoever on his shoulder. But there was...nothing. He shook his head, afraid what might come out of his mouth if he tried to speak. There was a lump in his throat forming, too large to swallow down. 

Dr. Ruiz’s eyes softened, and she quietly said, “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”   


As soon as the door softly closed, Pepper moved from his side and stood in front of him, looking at his face. She placed her hand on his knee. 

“Tony?” she murmured softly, putting her other hand up on his left cheek. “Are you okay?”

He gulped, opening his mouth, but no sound would come out. An  _ awful  _ croak came out of his mouth, and to his horror, he felt tears begin to trail down his face. Pepper’s face immediately melted into one that he couldn’t stand to look at, so he cast his eyes downward as he tried to compose himself. 

Pepper didn’t say anything else, she just gently wiped away the tears that ran down his face with her thumb and gripped his knee. After a few minutes, he whispered, “Sorry,” finally getting the tears to cease. 

Pepper wiped away the last of the streaks on his face and kept quiet. He knew that she wasn’t expecting any explanation, but he had to give her something. 

“I...I don’t know what’s-” he cut himself off, clearing his throat and starting over. “I’m scared, Pep. Really scared.”

She smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Me too. But I’m here. And you’re going to be okay.”

Her hand slipped in his open palm and he gripped onto her hand tightly, her other hand clasping on top of his, encasing his single hand between hers. For the next few minutes they gripped onto each other in silence until the door opened again and Pepper sat back down. Tony missed her hands on his. She took his hand again, and he glanced over at her, hopeful that his expression conveyed even an ounce of the appreciation he had for her as Dr. Ruiz stepped back into the room.

She glanced at both of them before sliding over her stool and taking a seat on it. Her hands were clasped together in her lap, and Tony felt dread setting in at the deep breath she took before starting. 

“Based on the readings that Dr. Green took and on what I’ve seen today, basically we don’t know anything for certain yet. Sensory neurons are pretty resilient, and so there’s a possibility that you could regain sensation in your shoulder in weeks, months, or even years following this. Motor neurons on the other hand have a much shorter window for recovery. If there is no signal from the motor neurons in 18-24 months following the accident, there is no way for the muscle to be activated any longer by the nerves. Then the muscle begins to wither away, or atrophy, as Dr. Green put it. I believe she was a little too sudden with jumping to her conclusion that that is happening currently. 

“What we can do,” she went on, standing up and walking back over to her laptop, “is get you into physical therapy to try and ‘help out’ the motor neurons in a way. However, Dr. Green is correct in regards to a possible prosthetic limb. For one to be attachable, the nerves there need to be functioning or else you’d never be able to move the limb. So for now, I want your focus to be going to a physical therapist and trying to prevent atrophy. Please remember that there is both no guarantee for recovery  _ and  _ no guarantee for complete loss of function of your shoulder. Do you have any questions?”   
  
Tony felt his head start to throb, and knew the inevitable headache that he always got from poor sleep was coming soon. He rubbed his forehead with his hand before looking up at Dr. Ruiz. The words felt stuck again in his throat. How ironic. Tony Stark, the man who got in trouble constantly for not keeping his mouth shut, couldn’t manage to say a single word. He instead shook his head. 

“I’ll send my recommendations over to Dr. Green,” Dr. Ruiz said, typing something on her keyboard. She then turned to the cabinets and opened the furthest left one, handing a small slip of stock paper to Tony. “Let me know who your physical therapist is and give me their contact information once you start having sessions. I’ll want to see you again in two weeks. Want to set up another appointment now?”

Thankfully, Pepper swooped in. “I’ll call you.”

Tony’s head pounded harder as Dr. Ruiz and Pepper exchanged pleasantries for another minute before he was being slowly moved back down so that he was the height of his wheelchair. At some point, the nurse must’ve come back into the room, because he was soon being lifted back into his wheelchair. 

There was a tight feeling in his chest, like everything inside was compressing slowly onto his lungs, making it hard for him to breathe. The feeling didn’t go away on the short drive over to the check-up with Dr. Green. It didn’t go away after she told him that everything was looking better and to come back in a week. And it didn’t go away once they were finally on the elevator back up to the penthouse, after having made an appointment with the physical therapist for the next morning. 

By the time that Morgan was running to greet them with a timid Peter trailing after her, Tony felt as if all his muscles in his body were clenched with anticipation for a threat that wasn’t there. He blinked, and suddenly he was next to the couch again, with Morgan telling him something about what she and Peter had done together, each word like a knife to his skull.

He felt himself mumble, “Pep…” until his throat felt clogged, but she looked over at him regardless, her eyes wide. 

“Morgan, let’s go to the kitchen so that we can get a snack. You can finish telling me about playing with Peter.”

Pepper practically dragged her away, Morgan’s bemused protests getting quieter as Pepper led Morgan away and into the kitchen. Tony took a deep breath and released it, his head a little clearer. 

“Mr-umm...Tony?” 

Tony glanced up to see Peter standing a few feet away, his face flushed and his hands playing with the cuffs on his sweatshirt. His eyes darted back between Tony and the floor, a small lock of hair poking out from underneath his beanie. 

_ Tony.  _ Peter had called him by his first name. His eyes widened, but he quickly smoothed out his expression, replying, “Kid?” without trying to sound too bewildered. 

“Umm...do-do you want me to leave?” Peter’s eyes met his for a brief second, but when Tony didn't reply, his face got redder as he quickly rambled on, “I mean, Morgan and Pepper left so I didn’t know if you wanted to be alone or if Morgan was just talking too much-not that she talks to much, it’s just that she is just a k-”

“It’s okay, Pete. Just take a seat.”

Peter sat down so abruptly, Tony was surprised the cushions didn’t leap off the couch in fright. He sat on the very edge of the cushion, obviously attempting to not stare at Tony as his eyes continued to flit up to his face. Tony could tell Peter wanted to say something, but his mouth was firmly shut, his hands still playing with those cuffs. 

“It...it was just a stressful morning,” Tony said after a few minutes, just to break the silence.

He wasn’t expecting a reply, but Peter softly asked, “Why’s that?”   


“The neurologist...she didn’t give the best news. Not the worst news, but it isn't looking good, kid.”

Peter nodded. “So no prosthetic?”   


“No...not now at least. Hopefully one day.”

Peter was silent for a minute. Tony almost broke the silence again himself, but then Peter blurted out, “Tony, you know that you don’t need it, right?”

“What?”   
  
Peter looked right into his eyes, a sort of fire there that Tony hadn’t seen since...since before Peter was gone. “Whatever happens, you’ll get through it. I mean, you’ve gone through worse and been okay, so why should this be any different? It’s not just because you’re Iron Man or that you’re Tony Stark, but it’s because you’re...you’re you. So you don’t need the new arm. It would help, but come on! You’re...You’re the man who literally was being poisoned by the thing that was supposed to save your life. You fought your way out of being held hostage. If anyone can get through this, it’s you.”

Peter’s eyes darted back to the floor, and his face got red. “That-that’s just my opinion anyway,” he mumbled, timid again. 

His throat felt thick, and the constriction in his chest was gone. But he could feel he was on the verge of tears, so he just nodded, not sure what to say even if he could speak. He saw Peter’s eyes flit upwards to his and his flush deepened. He then abruptly stood up and mumbled, “I’m gonna use the bathroom,” before rushing out of the room, leaving Tony alone, staring at the closed elevator doors after him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: ASD (acute stress disorder, which is similar to PTSD)
> 
> I changed Morgan’s age from five to four - I think I only mentioned her age once and I changed that, but let me know if you notice any mentions of her age that are wrong!
> 
> So here's some quick science biz to clear up anything that the neurologist was talking about - an electromyography test (EMG) basically measures muscle response to a nerve being stimulated - this is different from the test that was done by Dr. Green a few chapters ago, as that one was an NCV test that measured the nerve impulses themselves, not how they affected the muscles. 
> 
> So there's some stuff going on with Tony! If you're curious about his current state, look up ASD! (fun fact: not everyone who has ASD will get PTSD, and not everyone who has PTSD started with ASD)
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!! I can't believe that this fic is now over 40,000 words, and has over 6,000 hits!! You guys are truly awesome! Let me know what you think about this chapter in the comments!! I love hearing from you all:)


	17. FRIDAY

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Check the end for TW!

Peter collapsed on his bed, staring up at the ceiling blankly. The weight of the morning and what had happened with Mr...Tony was finally catching up to him. He wasn’t sure what was going on with Tony and his mental state, but the look on his face when he and Pepper had entered the apartment was completely depressing. 

He wasn’t sure how long he stayed there on the bed, trying to think about anything but the pressing voice that demanded to be heard inside his head, but there was a knock on his door. He quickly sat up and grabbed the remote for the small television he had set up in his room earlier, and flipped it on to a channel at random, keeping the volume muted. 

“Come in,” he called, attempting to casually lean back against the headboard.

Pepper stepped into the room and closed the door behind her. “Can I sit down?” she asked tentatively. Peter nodded and she sat down at his desk chair, rolling it across the floor so that it was right next to his bed. 

She was silent for a moment, before she said, “I just wanted to thank you for everything you’ve been doing to help around here. Playing with Morgan, watching her this morning, I just want you to know that it doesn’t go unnoticed.”

Peter felt his face flush slightly. “Oh, yeah, it’s no problem, really. I like helping out. And Morgan...she’s great.”

Pepper nodded, before sitting up a little straighter. “But I don’t want you to think that Tony and I are expecting you to do any of this, okay? While eventually we’d ask you to do a few chores every now and then, like cleaning your room or putting away the dishes, I know that this transition to living with us hasn’t been easy. We aren’t expecting you to be perfect, Peter. Tony and I are ready to help you with grieving May and through your panic attacks or anything else that might come up. We are both here for you. So please, just know that we aren’t going to kick you out if you don’t do certain things or if you behave a certain way. You’re here to stay as long as you’d like.”

Peter felt a lump in his throat forming. Could what she said...be true? Could it really be that easy? That he just gets to live here, no strings attached?   


_ No,  _ the voice hissed in his ear.  _ She’s lying. She just wants to make you feel comfortable so that you’ll make a mistake and then she has a reason to kick you out. Nobody actually wants you.  _

He tried to push down the voice, but it continued roaring in his ears as he said, “Thank you, Pepper. I appreciate it.”

He managed to make out her little smile and voice saying, “I’ll leave you alone again. If you want me, I’ll be here,” above the voice in his head, but as she shut the door behind her it just got louder and louder, bringing the awful feeling in his stomach back as he felt his breathing pick up. 

“Last night-” Peter jumped as he realized that he must’ve accidentally unmuted the TV by knocking into the remote. He felt the voice subside momentarily as he realized that the news was on. There was a reporter interviewing a police officer in Queens. 

“-suspect was able to get away before we arrived,” the police officer was saying. “Our forces have been stretched thin in the past week due to the sheer amount of people that have come back.”

The reporter spoke into the microphone again. “Spider-Man was gone for the past five years among the other millions of Americans who vanished. A source reports that Spider-Man was seen in an upstate hospital, where Tony Stark was rumored to be before mysteriously disappearing again. Has Spider-Man been back to help with the increased crime?”

“No, he’s still missing.”

“Would his return help out with the crime rates?”

“It’s hard to tell, but he generally was very helpful in keeping the station from being flooded with non-violent calls as well as stopping actual crimes in the Queens area.”

“Do you know why he hasn’t returned yet?”

“I can’t say, Jacob,” the officer said, turning his focus to the camera. “But we could really use his help around here again.”

“Thank you, Officer Williams for your statement today,” Jacob said, turning back to face the camera as well. “You heard it here. Where is Spider-Man? Why hasn’t he returned to help Queens again? What’s his connection to Mr. Stark’s hospitalization? Back to you, Jan.”

A woman back at the news station began speaking as the interview cut away from the screen, but Peter couldn’t hear anything she was saying. Queens was in trouble. And he had done nothing to help.

_ Look at you. Peter Parker now is so spoiled that he can’t even lift a finger to help where he came from. Have you thought about them at all? Have you? _

“Yes,” Peter mumbled, yanking off his beanie and digging his fingers into his hair. 

_ Did you forget where you came from? There could have been countless crimes prevented if you were there, but you don’t care about Queens anymore.  _

“No, I do!” His hands yanked on clumps of his hair, a small voice that was telling him to stop immediately being overpowered by the bigger one.

_ It’s your fault that people are getting hurt. People are dead because of you. _

_ Rip!  _ The biggest clumps yet came out in his hands, two fluffs of brown hair, bloody at the roots. He stared down at them numbly, pain not registering in his brain. He quickly grabbed a tissue and put the hair in it, gingerly touching the spots on the sides of his head. His fingers came back painted red with blood. 

The room spun as he stumbled into the bathroom, the tissue gripped in his right hand. He barely made it to the toilet before he was spewing out watery vomit, his stomach on fire. He continued to vomit until he was dry heaving, nothing left in his stomach to come up. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand as he sat back, leaning heavily against the side of the bathtub. 

He sat there for a long time, staring blankly at his bloody hands in his lap, one open and the other closed around the tissue. 

***

Tony sat on the couch, propped up by a mass of pillows behind him. In his lap sat his StarkPad, his hand sliding across the screen as he finished his task from the morning. He was almost there. 

“Daddy, what are you doing?” He looked up to see Morgan’s brown eyes focused on the screen curiously, wide with curiosity. 

“Remember FRIDAY?” he asked, looking back down at the screen.

“The voice that was in the place where you made Mommy’s present?”

“Yep. She was in the basement. She’s going to be here now.”

“Why?”

“She can help watch over our house.”

“Like...like Spider-Man?”

“Kind of. She’s not a real person though, remember? She’s like a robot.”

“Where is she?” Morgan asked, glancing up at the ceiling warily. 

“Inside this.” Tony tapped the StarkPad. 

“But how is she gonna watch the house if she’s stuck in there?”

Tony suppressed a grin. “FRIDAY is a program, a code. Do you know what that means?”

“No.”

“Well, it’s like Angry Birds.”

“I love Angry Birds! Mommy lets me play it on her phone sometimes.”

“Angry Birds is a game that’s inside Mommy’s phone. But anyone can get Angry Birds. Both Mommy and I can have Angry Birds on our phones. FRIDAY is like a game on a phone. She can be anywhere, as long as you have the code. Just like Angry Birds can be played anywhere as long as you have the app. Does that make sense?”

“Kinda,” Morgan said, stroking her chin, just like what he did when he was thinking. 

“It’s some pretty hard stuff for a four-year-old to understand.”

“No, I get what program means now. But why didn’t you have FRIDAY all over our old house. You didn’t want her to watch over us?”

“We didn’t need her to. Living in the city is a little different from living in the cabin, Maguna.”

“Why?”

“There’s more people around us now.”

That seemed to satisfy the little girl, because she just nodded her head and walked towards the kitchen where Pepper was, still eyeing the ceiling suspiciously, like at any second she expected FRIDAY to pop out.

Tony grinned to himself. Out of the hundreds of decisions he had made in his life, becoming a father, to both Morgan and now to Peter, had to be his best one.

After a few more taps on the screen, she was finally ready. He pressed the screen, and immediately FRIDAY’s voice was in the living room in her pleasant Irish voice. 

“Hello, Boss.”

“Good to hear you again, FRI. I’ve missed you.”

Her voice seemed to get a little soft. “You too. Would you like the same protocols as the ones from the Upstate Facility, code 8229?”

“We’re going to need a few updates. Let me review subset MAG.”

The file opened on his StarkPad, and he let out a smile. “Let’s get to work, FRI.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Panic attacks, vomiting, hair pulling
> 
> I love FRIDAY and Karen so much. Karen will soon be making an appearance:)
> 
> Thanks for reading! Leave a comment if you'd like! The start of the subplot will begin in the next few chapters or so. See you all soon...


	18. Spider-Man

“I want to be Spider-Man again,” Peter blurted out, standing up at the table. He had been quiet all dinner, barely touching his food. Tony looked up at him in surprise. Peter looked pale, but his mouth was set in a firm line. 

“Are you sure? It’s okay to take a bit of break from him. Queens will be okay,” Pepper said, her face drawn up in worry.

“Yes,” he said. Peter’s fists were clenched and he was shaking slightly, like he expected a fight. 

“Okay,” Tony said. 

Peter’s mouth dropped open in surprise. He released his hands, relaxing them by his sides. Tony could feel Pepper’s eyes on him, and when he looked over at her, she gave him a look that said  _ what are you doing?  _ He mouthed,  _ trust me.  _ She didn’t look happy, but she nodded slightly as Peter timidly repeated, “Okay?”

“Okay. I trust you, kid. If you think you’re ready to go back out, then you can. But there’s going to be a few rules.”

The kid nodded, and tensed, like he was expecting an onslaught of harsh rules. Tony quickly said, “Pepper and I will discuss them with you later,” and subtly looked at Morgan, who was uncharacteristically quiet throughout their discussion. Peter looked over at her and back to Tony, nodding with wide eyes. 

***

Peter paced the length of his room. He had been waiting for the past hour for Pepper and Tony to come up and talk to him after Morgan was put to bed. The boxes in his room were there, half-emptied with some items put away and others in piles, but he couldn’t bring himself to touch them again. 

He couldn’t help but wonder what was taking them so long. It usually didn’t take an hour to put Morgan down. What if they were having second thoughts about letting him patrol? What would he do then? If they didn’t let him, would he be able to accept that? Or would he try to sneak out of a place that had more security than some government agencies now that FRIDAY was back up?

“Your heart rate seems to be elevated, Peter.” He flinched as FRIDAY’s voice came into the room. “Would you like me to notify Mr. Stark?”

He placed two fingers on his pulse point on his neck. Sure enough, it was beating very quickly, his breathing quickening as well without him noticing. He let out a long exhale. 

“No, I’m okay. Thanks, FRIDAY.”

She seemed to hesitate. He quickly continued, “Really, I am. I didn’t even realize that it was happening. I just need to take some deep breaths.”

“Okay, Peter,” she said, sounding relieved. If Peter thought that the protocols both FRIDAY and Karen were able to follow was impressive, he would never stop being blown away at their ability to sound as if they had human emotions. Tony really outdid himself on both of them.

A sharp knock on the door jerked him out of his thoughts. He quickly opened it, trying to keep his heart from pounding in his ears as he sat down on his bed. Tony and Pepper came in, Pepper pushing Tony off to the side and taking a seat on the desk chair next to him. 

Tony looked at Pepper, giving her a long glance before beginning, “Kid, Pepper and I just finished discussing what the rules will be for patrolling. We know that when...when you were living with May,” Peter didn’t miss the way that Tony seemed to lower his voice on her name, “you would go out as late as you wanted before she found out that you’re Spider-Man. After she found out, I know that she gave you rules. So we’re going to try and keep many of those same rules that you had with her, alright?”

He nodded, holding his breath as Tony continued. “I’ve heard from different sources that school won’t be starting up again until the fall with everyone repeating the year they were on. This means that you won’t be going to school for a few months, giving you more free time. When the time comes, we’ll discuss any time changes needed for you to get a good night’s sleep on school nights and keep up with homework.”

Pepper chimed in, continuing what Tony was saying, “For now, you have to be back in the apartment at midnight. You must answer when Tony or I call you, and if you miss the call, you have to call back immediately. And stay in Queens. No solo adventures out of the city. Got it?”   


Peter bit his lip. The good crime didn’t start until around 10:00. That would only give him about an hour and half to actually make a difference. He almost protested, but the quick reminder by the voice in his head, that  _ they could give you up at any time _ , made him falter. So he just nodded, his thumb nail digging into the palm of his other hand as he clasped them together in his lap. 

Pepper looked relieved as she reached out a hand and gently patted his leg. “Thank you, Peter. If you’d like, you can go out tonight, but you can wait until tomorrow night or whenever you might be ready. No rush.”

“I’ll go tonight,” he rushed out, standing up abruptly. 

Tony nodded and pulled out something from his lap that was hidden beneath the blanket on his legs. With a jolt, Peter realized it was the smooth fabric of his suit. Tony handed it to him as he said,“You can either use your old suit or if you want, I got this back in its casing.”

He held up a small oval, and Peter’s eyes widened. “Is that the new suit?”   


“Be careful,” Tony said, tossing it to Peter, which he caught easily.

He admired the oval that fit inside his palm as he gently ran his fingers over the white raised bump. If he concentrated, it was almost like he could feel the nanotech inside, pulsing, ready to be activated. He felt a huge urge to use it again, to figure out everything that it could do.

“I’ll stick with my old suit for a bit, if that’s okay,” he said, handing back the oval to Tony. Because as much as he wanted to use this new suit, he couldn’t go out there in an iron suit while Tony was still hurt. That wouldn’t be right. It would be like he was trying to replace Iron Man. 

Tony just nodded. If he was disappointed, he was really good at hiding it, because Peter only saw a neutral expression with a hint of something positive that he couldn’t quite identify. 

“If you run into trouble, don’t hesitate calling, okay?” Tony said, drumming his hand on his lap. It occurred to Peter that Tony looked  _ nervous  _ about Peter going back on patrol. Was it because he didn’t think Peter was ready and thought he was just going to get hurt? Or could it be because he cared about him and wanted things to go well? His heart ached at the fact that it couldn’t be the latter. Tony didn’t care about him enough to be worried about him like...like a parent would; Peter was a burden. He knew that. Any established liking for Peter was because of Spider-Man and was at the arm-length of a mentor. He would never care for...or love Peter like Peter loved him. 

Peter felt a small bit of fire burn within him at the prospect. He was going to prove that he could do this. It didn’t matter if Tony didn’t believe in him. It didn’t matter that Tony didn’t care about him. 

As Peter rode down the elevator to the base floor of the apartment building (They had agreed that it would be best if Spider-Man wasn’t seen in the proximity of Tony due to the fact that the news was bound to get that Peter was living with him now eventually.), he couldn’t help but keep that thought in the back of his mind. 

He finally got far enough away from the apartment to put on the suit. Ducking into the empty alley and crouching behind a dumpster, he quickly pulled on his suit, feeling the familiar surge of energy hit him once he pressed the arachnid in the center of his chest. 

Despite his unpleasant thoughts, he couldn’t help but smile as he pulled on the mask and heard Karen’s greeting. “Hello, Peter. How are you?”   


“I’m great, Karen,” he said, practically bouncing on his soles with anticipation. Because he was. Peter Parker was a depressed, anxiety-ridden teenager who had just lost his aunt. But Spider-Man? He was untouchable. He fought aliens and  _ beat them _ a little over a week ago, including Thanos. He pushed away the thoughts about Spider-Man making things worse that came with putting on the suit. Spider-Man was confident. He wouldn’t doubt himself.

As Peter listened to Karen give him the quickest route to a nearby street where he could hear a woman calling for help, he flung out a web and began to swing, feeling the rush of adrenaline in his body as the wind whipped through the thin material of his suit. Even though Peter Parker was worthless, Spider-Man wasn’t. And for now, that was enough. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay!! Spider-Man is back! Probably not for the right reasons, but plot needs to plot, so here we are:) 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Let me know what you think in the comments, and thanks for reading!! See you all soon:)


	19. Mission

Tony couldn’t quiet the urge to pace. But he couldn’t exactly get out of his wheelchair to do that, so he had to settle for bouncing his knee erratically, the abandoned StarkPad on his lap open to his latest project for Stark Industries.

_ 9:51.  _ Only an hour had passed so far. Why hadn’t he and Pepper decided on a sensible time, like 10:00? Then Peter would be home sooner. 

“I can hear you thinking,” Pepper said, looking up from the book she was reading from where she was sitting on the couch. Her glasses were perched on her nose, and Tony couldn’t help but think about how cute she looked, her blue eyes glancing up at him in the dim lighting.

“I’m not thinking; what? You’re deluding yourself, Ms. Potts.”

She took off her glasses and set them on top of her book, which she set to the side. She scooted closer so she was next to him. “He’ll be fine, Tony. He’s been doing this for a long time.”

He rubbed his face and looked back at her. “But what if he needs help, Pep? I can’t be there for him tonight. I can send a suit, but they’re not as reliable.”

“We talked about this, remember? I’ll go help if he needs it. He’s not in this alone, and neither are you. Don’t you trust me?”   


“Of course I do, Pep. It’s just-”

“Then trust that I can give him help if he needs it. Okay?”

He sighed, squeezing her hand as it came to rest in his. “Okay.”   


Her hand slipped out of his as she returned to her spot on the couch, picking up her book again. Shivering lightly at the loss of contact, Tony picked up his StarkPad again and tried to immerse himself back into his work. But despite his best efforts, the only thing that he could think of was his kid. 

Tony snuck a glance over at Pepper, who was buried in her book again as he pulled up Karen’s baby monitor footage. It was probably an invasion of privacy even if Tony was now Peter’s legal guardian, but he had added in a live streaming option so that he could watch what Peter was seeing at real time. 

Turning his volume to mute, he watched the disorienting camera being twisted and flipped about as Peter was obviously traveling at the moment. He let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. Peter was safe. His kid was safe. For now, at least. 

Later that evening, an hour after Tony had guiltily told Pepper he’d go to sleep soon as she laid down next to him in bed, he kept an eye on the footage.  _ 11:47. _

Peter should be headed back now, right? He couldn’t tell from the screen where Peter was as he was on the move again, but he hoped that Peter was on his way back to their apartment. Especially since he still had to change out of the suit and everything. Would it be going too far to track him? What if Peter didn’t make it back in time? Tony really didn’t want to have to punish him. 

He drummed his fingers on the blanket, and let out a short huff of air when he saw the screen go dark. That meant that the suit was off. Sure enough, at exactly 11:58, Tony heard sounds of footsteps coming into the apartment and headed in the direction of the elevator up to Peter’s room. 

“FRIDAY,” he whispered, hoping that she would have picked up on the lower volume, “where’s Peter?”

“Peter is in his room, boss,” she replied, the volume barely above a murmur. Pepper didn’t stir. 

Tony felt the tightness in his chest evaporate and he was finally able to put down the StarkPad and close his eyes, knowing that his kid was safe. 

***

“Hey Karen?” Peter asked, flinging a web to the next building as he swung. 

“Yes, Peter?”

“You picking up anything around here?”

He waited for a moment as she scanned the area. It had been two weeks since he had first gone out as Spider-Man. Every time he put on the suit, it was like he could  _ breathe  _ again. When he was at the Starks’ apartment, it felt like he was constantly performing and putting up a fake smile while inside the torment hadn’t gone down at all. He was still only eating the bare minimum, with most of what he got down coming back up later. He was still pulling out his hair, the sheer amount of it concerning. And he was barely sleeping, because staying awake was better than the inevitable nightmares. 

But none of that  _ mattered  _ once he became Spider-Man. Peter Parker was stuck in a loop, nothing ever getting better, instead getting worse. But Spider-Man was unstoppable. He could do anything. 

“Take a left on 34th Street,” Karen said, and Peter did so, making a sharp turn. He saw it immediately, despite the darkening sky. A car was pulled off to the side of the road, a man obviously struggling with a spare tire next to it.

Peter quickly swung down, landing a few yards away so that he wouldn’t scare the man. 

“Hello sir, do you need any help?” Peter asked, trying not to sound too eager. He had been patrolling for a few hours now, and the most exciting thing he’d done was help a woman put up posters for a lost dog. 

“That would be great, thanks!” the man exclaimed, with a grin that was a little...off. 

Peter shrugged off his worries. His spidey sense wasn’t going off, so he was sure it was fine. He bent down and took the tire from the man, rolling it over to the axle. 

“Hey, I hate to tell you, but this tire isn’t going to f-” Peter looked up and noticed the man was gone. He felt anxiety spike in him, but his spidey sense still wasn’t tingling. Was he in danger? Why wasn’t he getting anything if he was?

He jumped back, leaving the tire rolling as the car door opened. Was this an ambush? How many people could possibly fit into that car? Why hadn’t he noticed that the windows were tinted earlier? 

“You’re a very difficult person to contact, Spider-Man.”

Peter’s eyes widened as none other than Nick Fury stepped out of the car, arms crossed, and a pissed off look on his face. The past SHIELD director took a step forward, and Peter couldn’t help the step back that he took in response. 

“So good to finally meet you,” he continued, his features illuminated by the light of a nearby lamppost. Peter had a feeling that he was being incredibly sarcastic. He had heard stories from Tony about Fury, and Peter could tell that even Tony was intimidated by him at times. 

“I used to know everything. Then, I come back five years later and now, I know nothing. No intel, no team, and a high school kid is dodging my calls,” Fury said, glaring openly at Peter. 

“Mr. Fury sir, you must’ve made a mistake! I didn’t get any phone calls,” he finally managed to say, confused. 

_ Shit.  _ Peter was glad that his mask covered his expression, as all the color had drained from his face. His phone  _ had  _ been going off a lot in the past week. But he had thought it was just Ned or MJ so he had just ignored it, guilt creeping higher and higher every time he let it vibrate. 

“Are you sure about that, Parker?”

“I think-wait...how do you know-”

“I was the director of an intelligence agency for years and you’re wondering how I know that you’re Peter Parker?”

He blushed, swallowing before saying, “I didn’t know it was you calling or else I would’ve picked up.”

Fury didn’t look happy with his answer, but thankfully he moved on, pulling a small slip of paper out of his pocket, “Go to this location tomorrow night at 9:30. If you don’t…”

Peter gulped. Even a vague threat from Fury had his hands shaking so badly that he had to clench them together in front of him to keep from showing his nerves. “I’ll be there,” he quickly said, opening the small piece of paper and then tucking it into his pocket after glancing at the address. 

When Peter looked up from tucking it away, Fury was gone, the car still there. How that man managed to elude Peter’s incredible hearing was beyond him, but Peter knew he was going to keep his promise. Nick Fury was not a man that he wanted to make an enemy. 

He pulled on the mask, ready to swing back home, when Karen said, “Peter, you have an incoming call from Ned Leeds.”

In his excitement, he mumbled, “Yeah, that’s fine,” half-listening, but his eyes widened when he realized what he said. “No, wait!” he cried, but it was too late. 

“Peter!” Ned’s voice shouted into his mask, and Peter felt the panic building as he seriously considered hanging up. No. That would make things worse. 

“Hey, Ned,” he mumbled, wanting to start swinging, but hands too shaky to aim.

“I’ve been trying to call you for weeks now! What happened? Are you okay? Why haven’t you been answering?”

Even though Ned’s tone wasn’t accusatory, Peter still winced. “Sorry, Ned. I’ve...uh...I’ve been busy.”

Ned was silent for a moment, and Peter felt the guilt bubbling up more and more. He thought he’d been doing Ned a favor by not talking to him. Nobody really wanted to talk to him. What if he did the opposite? What if he made things-

“Okay, just-just don’t disappear like that again,” Ned said, his voice breaking. Peter felt even worse as Ned continued, “You weren’t even replying to my texts, dude. I know that everything is crazy right now, but please don’t shut MJ or me out anymore. We just want to be here for you.”

Peter was glad he couldn’t see Ned’s face. He was already on the verge of tears, but seeing his face, so disappointed and hurt by Peter, would’ve started a flood of tears that he knew he wouldn’t have been able to hold back. 

“I-” Peter closed his mouth. Could he promise Ned that he wouldn’t ignore him anymore? Even though he knew that he was ruining his friendship with Ned, and that it wasn’t making things better but rather worse, could he continue to go against the voice hissing in his ear to  _ hang up the phone _ , that Ned  _ didn’t need  _ him anymore?

“I-I’ll try,” he finally said, the voice inside appeased for now. 

Ned didn’t seem happy with his answer, but he thankfully said, “Okay. Oh, have you seen the stuff about a dude with a cape flying around Europe and defeating giant monsters?”

“Is this a comic book, or…” Peter asked, furrowing his eyebrows.

“No dude! It’s all over the news! Here, I’ll send you an article.”

Peter pulled out his phone, biting his lip at the hundreds of unread messages, and clicked on Ned’s message as it popped up. Sure enough, there was an article covering a man with a fishbowl-like helmet and red cape. In the picture, he appeared to be shooting out green mist at what looked to be a giant figure made out of water. 

“This has been going on?” he asked, skimming through the article. Apparently, a water monster had almost destroyed a part of Venice a few days ago, but this unnamed hero had stopped it. 

“Yeah dude! He’s so cool! He’s so mysterious, and this Italian news I watched earlier said his name was ‘L’uomo del Misterio,’ which MJ told me means ‘man of mystery.”

“Mysterio, huh?” Peter asked, trying to focus on reading the article and listen to his friend excitedly rant at the same time. 

“Dude! That’s what we should call him! Anyway, he’s also taken down a giant made of earth and a giant made out of air. So, he’s kinda the real deal!”

“Sounds like it,” Peter said. Honestly, any guy that could take down three monsters all by himself was pretty impressive.

“So are you gonna like, team up with him? Is he gonna join the Avengers? Why wasn’t he fighting Thanos?” Ned asked, shooting out a bunch of questions in rapid fire. 

“I don’t know, Ned,” Peter said, cracking a small smile. He had missed Ned. Even if he was better off without him, it was nice to have his friend back. The voice seemed to not like that thought, so he quickly said, “Ned, I’ve got to go. I have a curfew that I need to get back for.”

“Wait, are you patrolling right now? That’s so cool! I’ll talk to you later, Peter. Just...please don’t be a stranger. I miss you, dude.”

“I miss you too, bye,” Peter said, hanging up. He let out a shaky breath. 

_ He hates you even more now. You’re worthless. You can’t even do a single thing right.  _

This time, it was a lot harder to ignore the voice. 

***

Peter sat at the dinner table, moving around the food on his plate. He knew he should eat, as he didn’t know what Fury would have him doing, but his stomach was so queasy from nerves that he couldn’t imagine eating. 

“Peter, are you okay?” 

He jerked his head up so quickly that he saw black spots dance across his vision. Pepper was looking over at him, her eyebrows furrowed with worry. He felt panic setting in. He hadn’t told Pepper or Tony about Fury or his meeting tonight. He didn’t know if it was supposed to be a secret, and he didn’t want to get kicked out of his very first mission that wasn’t either done by himself or given to him by Tony.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just tired.” Technically that was true. He hadn’t gotten any sleep last night, both due to his fear of nightmares and the adrenaline that kicked in whenever he thought about the mission that Fury had for him. 

She raised an eyebrow, before continuing, “Do you need to stay home from patrolling tonight? It’s okay to take a night off.”

“No!” he shouted, before blushing and lowering his voice. “I mean-no. I’ll be okay. I just had trouble sleeping last night, that’s all. It wasn’t because of patrol.”

She didn’t look completely convinced, and a peek over at Tony showed the same thing. “Well alright then,” Pepper said, getting a spoonful of mashed potatoes and bringing it towards her mouth. “Just know your limitations, okay? We don’t want you to burn yourself out.”

He wanted to laugh. If they knew how burned out he actually was, there was no way they’d let him keep patrolling. But even though patrolling was supposed to be what was draining, it instead gave him energy. It was the day-to-day average, uneventful things that burned him out.

“I do, I promise.”

As he stepped out onto the street, he cast a glance back up at the apartment, feeling an uncomfortable feeling in his stomach and tightness in his chest. He took a deep breath, put on the suit once he got into his alleyway, and shot a web.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh I've been looking forward to writing this chapter for weeks now:) So Fury's here! Any predictions for what the mission is going to be??
> 
> Thanks for reading! Leave a comment if you'd like! (I love to read them!!) I have the next few chapters written, so I'm hoping to get them up soon. I had to figure out this subplot, which was easier to do by writing a few chapters at a time, but I think I finally got it figured out! Thanks for hanging in there with me:) See you all soon!!


	20. Mysterio

“You can lose the mask. Everyone here's seen you without it. You'd only be feigning anonymity and breathing through spandex for no good reason,” Fury said as Peter stepped into the room. The address had taken him to a seemingly abandoned shop, but upon going down the stairs, had revealed a few different people, all crouched around different computers and monitors. 

He hesitantly removed the mask, his eyes darting around the room. Everyone here really already knew that he was Spider-Man?   


“Over there we have Maria Hill. That is Dmitri,” Fury said, gesturing to a woman who immediately reminded Peter of Pepper with her no-nonsense expression and a stoic looking man with a beard. He half-waved to both of them. Dmitri cocked his gun, and Peter tried to keep his face expressionless.

“And this is Mr. Beck,” Fury said, gesturing to a tall man with a friendly smile and neatly trimmed beard, wearing a suit with armor and a cape. 

“Mysterio?” he asked, seeing the helmet in the man’s arm. Was this the guy who had been on the news? The new superhero?

“What?” the man asked, a slightly amused look on his face. 

“Doesn’t matter,” Peter quickly mumbled, cheeks burning. “It’s just what my friends have been calling you.”

“Well, you can call me Quentin,” the man said, holding out his hand for Peter to shake. As Peter took it, he felt his spidey sense go off. He flinched, but quickly hid it. He wasn’t in any danger. It was probably malfunctioning again, just like back at the hospital. 

“Nice to meet you,” Peter said, attempting to smile despite everything in him screaming to get out of there. He turned back to Fury. “Mr. Fury? Why exactly am I here? It’s only been a few weeks since everyone got back. Is there something already trying to end the world again, sir?”

“Let me explain,” Mysterio said, looking over at Fury and back to Peter. “There are multiple realities, Peter. This is Earth, Dimension 616. I'm from Earth 833.”

Did he hear that right? Because that would be so awesome! “I'm sorry, you're saying there's a multiverse? 'Cause I thought that was just theoretical. That completely changes how we understand the initial singularity. We're talking about an internal inflation system and how does that even work with all the quantum-? It’s insane-” he quickly clamped his mouth shut, turning red as he noticed everyone staring at him.

“S-sorry. It’s really cool,” he mumbled, turning back to Mysterio 

“Don't ever apologize for being the smartest one in the room,” Mysterio said, and Peter couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face. “In my reality, we also defeated a powerful alien from space, although he called himself Galactus. He drained planets of their life force, and we too found our version of the infinity stones. Eventually, we were able to return everything to normal.

“But there was a side effect to using the stones,” he continued, his expression turning serious. “Their energy signatures attracted huge creatures called Elementals. They were born in stable orbits within black holes. Creatures formed from the primary elements: Air, water, fire, earth,” Beck said, and a hologram appeared, showing huge creatures that towered above different cities. Peter recognized the one from the news, and he felt a shiver run down his spine as it tore down buildings, causing people to flee in every direction.

“After already being weak from our previous attack, we were unable to finish them off. I’m the lone survivor of my planet.” His voice broke, and Peter couldn’t help but wince in response.

“They’ve materialized on our planet,” Agent Hill said, a holographic map appearing. “Our satellites have confirmed it. They’re attacking the same coordinates that they did in his reality.”

“You can thank Mr. Beck for destroying three of them. There’s only one left: fire,” Fury said.

“The strongest of them all. The one that destroyed my Earth. It's the one that took my family,” Beck said, and Peter surprised himself by reaching out and placing his hand on the older man’s arm. 

“I’m sorry,” he said, and Beck gave him a tight-lipped smile. 

“It will be in New York City in approximately 24 hours,” Hill said, and Peter felt dread building as the map honed in on New York. 

Peter laughed nervously. “Mr. Fury, this seems like bigtime, you know, huge superhero kinda stuff. And, I mean, I’m just a friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, sir.”

“Bitch, please. You’ve been to space. And this  _ is _ in your neighborhood,” Fury rebutted, cocking one eyebrow up at him. 

“I know, but that was an accident. Sir, come on. There's gotta be someone else you can use. What about Thor?” he asked, feeling the panic build. He was just a kid. What happened to all the superheroes who fought against Thanos? Where were they?

“Off-world.”

“Okay, um, Doctor Strange.”

“Unavailable,” Agent Hill said, not looking up from her computer.

“Captain Marvel,” he said in a desperate last attempt.

“Don't invoke her name,” Fury warned. Why wouldn’t they? This wasn’t big enough for her?

“Sir, look, I really wanna help, I do. But I have a curfew and if I’m late, Tony will kill me.”

Something flashed in Beck’s eyes, but it was gone quickly and replaced by a grin as Beck asked, “Come on, you’re a teenager. You can’t be late one time? You can tell Tony that you’ll be late because of a secret mission with Fury if you think he wouldn’t let you go.”

Peter bit his lip. It would be really cool to fight with someone who wasn’t an Avenger. Like  _ really  _ cool.

“Okay,” he said, and the smile on Mysterio’s face oddly did not make him feel any better. 

***

It was almost time. Peter paced the floor of his room, his suit laid out on his bed with his com set on top of it, as he continually glanced at his wrist watch.  _ 7:05.  _ He was supposed to meet Mysterio at the coordinates at 7:30 to keep a look out for the fire elemental. And he still had to come up with what he was going to tell Tony. 

He didn’t want to lie. He knew he was going to tell Tony that there was a mission, but he knew if he told him the gravity of the situation that he would try and help, but wouldn’t be able to. And Pepper then would try and help, but then who would protect Morgan and get her and Tony out of the apartment if it wasn’t safe? So he couldn’t tell Tony the whole truth. 

The elevator doors opened as Peter stepped into the living room. There Tony was, as he was most evenings, sitting on the couch next to Morgan, half-watching whatever the evening’s show or movie was, as he worked on something on his StarkPad.

Peter took a deep breath. “Can you pause it for a second?”

Morgan began to whine, but a look from Tony had her shutting her mouth quickly. The image on the screen froze. “What is it, kid? Are you patrolling tonight?”

“Kind of. I just wanted to talk to you about that.”

Tony nodded and said, “Morgan, can you go into the kitchen and help Mommy put away the dishes for a minute? I promise as soon as Peter and I are done talking that we can continue to watch our movie.”

“Okay, Daddy,” Morgan said, pouting a little as she shuffled off to the kitchen. 

“I got a message from Fury. He has a job for me tonight,” Peter said. “I might be out past curfew.”

“You’ve been talking to Fury? What’s this job that he has for you?” Tony asked incredulously.

“He was kind of vague,” Peter said, hoping he sounded convincing enough. 

“Well you can’t ignore Fury,” Tony muttered partially to himself. “He’s the only person who gets on my ass more than Pepp-”

“What was that?” Pepper called from the kitchen. 

“Nothing, sweetie! I love you!”

“That’s what I thought!” she replied, and Tony mouthed  _ too close  _ at Peter. Peter let out a nervous laugh, too bright and too loud, but Tony just smiled at the sound. 

“Promise me something, okay?” Tony asked, his face serious again.

“What?” 

“If you get in over your head, it’s okay to ask for help. Call me and I can send a suit or Pepper. Just-” he cut himself off, rubbing his face, “be safe, kid. Okay?”

“I will,” Peter promised. He hoped that he could keep it. 

***

“How you feelin’? Are you ready?” Beck asked, swinging his legs over the edge of the building. 

“I...I don’t know,” Peter admitted, looking out onto the tops of the buildings nearby. He was on lookout for the fire monster, and Mysterio had flown up and sat down next to him, not talking at first, but looking out as well, as if he were imagining what it would be like to have this kind of Earth again. Peter wondered how similar this all was to Beck’s old home, if it brought back painful memories, or if the two realities were different enough that it was like being on an alien planet.

“These past few weeks have been the hardest in my entire life,” Peter whispered, keeping his eyes glued onto the horizon. “I almost got killed by Thanos right after I returned from the blip. Tony got really badly hurt. And then I find out my aunt’s dead. I don’t know if I can defeat a giant fire monster right now.”

“That’s a lot to deal with. I’m sorry that you lost your aunt. Is she all you had left?” Beck asked, his eyes sympathetic. 

“She was the last of my family. But I’m lucky that the Starks took me in.”

“You’re close with Tony?” Beck asked with a smile. 

“Yeah. He’s honestly like a dad to me,” Peter whispered, before quickly closing his mouth after realizing what he said, his cheeks on fire. 

“It’s okay. I won’t tell anyone. But I’m glad you have him,” Beck said with a small smile. 

“Yeah, me too.” 

Peter didn’t feel a ton better, but there was something nice about having Beck to talk to, to confide in. It felt nice to just talk without knowing him for years. He was a calming presence, like Pepper was.    


“It’s here,” Hill said into his com, and Beck nodded at him. The slightly warm feeling that had grown in his chest vanished, replaced instantly with cold, jarring adrenaline.

“Let’s go,” Beck said, flying down off the building. Peter shot a web, and jumped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that the first scene is almost word-for-word Spider-Man far from home - just stick with me for that and the beginning of the next chapter, as those two parts should be really the only parts that I leaned heavily on the script for. I have plans for Mysterio in this story that are different than FFH. 
> 
> I've been looking forward to this chapter and the next ones since starting this story, so get ready...;)


	21. The Fight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Check the end for TW!

At first, he didn’t see anything. The coordinates that he was currently standing on was a street corner, nothing notable or special about it. New Yorkers were giving him odd glances as he clung to the side of a building, carefully watching the ground. 

Smoke began rising from a grate in the ground. Peter quickly jumped down, watching that point intensely. Cracks began to spread beneath his feet, and he stumbled back as they began to get wider. 

“There’s seismic activity,” Agent Hill said as oozing red lava began to leak from the cracks in the ground, as if they were on the crest of an active volcano rather than a street in New York City. 

Screams began to echo off the sides of the buildings as the lava began moving faster, until it engulfed a metal lion statue that was in front of the library, liquifying the metal quickly. The New Yorkers finally seemed to get the message that they should get out of there as the people on the street began fleeing away from the fissures.

Suddenly, the pillars of the library, where the lava had been traveling, burst apart and flung flaming rocks in every direction. Peter leaped out of the way as one flew towards him. He was able to fling a web at another to redirect its path and keep it from hitting a teenage boy. 

A monster was in the place of the explosion, huge and shrieking, made completely out of lava. It had to be at least 20 feet tall, towering over the bystanders as it began to knock into nearby cars and buildings. 

“Okay, he’s here!” Peter yelled into his com. “Beck, you ready? You know what to do.”

“On your lead, Spider-Man,” Beck said, and Peter saw Mysterio fly in, hitting the monster with green energy from his hands. 

“You’re up, kid,” Beck said as he landed, and Peter took his cue to begin to fling the rubble at the monster, hitting it in its back and then making a smooth landing onto another building. Beck shot more energy at it, and Peter almost saw the monster begin to stumble. 

Peter jumped back as the monster punched right where he had been standing. Unfortunately, the creature began to grow larger as rebar began to absorb into its fist.

“Keep it away from metal, Spider-Man! It’ll only grow bigger and more powerful if it gets into contact with it,” Mysterio called. 

“You couldn’t have said that earlier?” Peter yelped, flipping back onto a car roof as the monster attempted to strike again. Talking cost him, as Peter didn’t notice the other arm swinging down onto the car, throwing him backwards and into a street lamp. 

He looked up as the elemental got closer, attempting to scramble to his feet. But he hadn’t been able to eat all day. He stumbled, his head spinning. No. Not now! He had to finish the fight!

The elemental was so close, and it was almost upon him. Distantly, he wondered, is this how he was going to die? Was this it? He shot two webs from each shooter in a meek attempt to fight back, but they only caught on fire upon contact. The monster raised its fist-

A green dome suddenly covered him. There stood Mysterio, holding up a force field just in time for the elemental’s fist to smash into it. He shook his head to clear it as the monster pounded into it, over and over again. 

“It’s time for plan B,” Mysterio grunted, straining against the weight of the shield.

“We’ve got to hit it with something it can’t absorb!” 

“I’ll go right, you go left,” Mysterio affirmed, and in one great push the force field exploded, pushing the monster backwards. Peter scrambled left, looking for anything that wasn’t metal. New York City was seemingly built on metal. There was barely anything he could use.

He flung a stone at the monster, and Mysterio immediately followed with a blast of green energy. The two repeated the action a few times, and it seemed like they were getting somewhere. The center of the monster’s chest had a large green slash. 

“That hurt him!” Peter cried as he flung another stone. Beck followed up again with a blast, but something went wrong. Peter didn’t know if Beck shot a little too hard or if the stone was too large, or if they hadn’t been watching their surroundings enough, but the monster stumbled backwards into the side of the building that was under construction, tons of exposed metal instantly absorbed into the side of the monster. 

Peter felt dread building as he noticed the green slash was now gone. Mysterio looked back at him, and even though his helmet was up, Peter could almost see the remorse on his face. 

“Peter, whatever happens? I’m glad that we met.”

“No! Beck! What are you doing?” Peter cried out as he tried to get to the other man in time. 

“What I should’ve done last time,” he said grimly. Green energy began to glow from his limbs, building with every second as Beck cried out, straining to get more. 

“Beck! Don’t do it!” Peter screamed as Mysterio flew towards the elemental, punching a hole straight through its chest. The monster shrieked and energy began to spread throughout the monster, until it exploded into green dust, the monster gone. 

Peter quickly jumped down from the side of the building, to where Mysterio laid in the rubble, unmoving, limbs splayed awkwardly. 

“Beck,” Peter whispered as he came up alongside him. For a moment, he thought the man was dead. But after a minute, where Peter couldn’t breathe and could only stand next to him in horror, Beck moved, opening his eyes. 

He let out a sigh of relief as Fury helped Mysterio to his feet, his helmet retracted, with a tired smile on his face. 

“So, it’s over?” Hill asked, looking around at the destruction warrily. 

“That was the last of them?” Beck asked.

“But not the last threat we'll ever face. We need to stay vigilant. There's a void in this world for someone like you. Hill and I are going to a virtual conference to meet with a few government representatives tomorrow. You should join us,” Fury said, holding out a hand to Beck. 

“Thank you. I just might take you up on that,” Beck replied, clasping Fury’s hand.

“You’ve got gifts, Parker,” Fury said, turning to Peter. “But you’re keeping yourself in the little leagues. Stark made you an Avenger. I need that. The world needs that. The choice is yours.”

He walked away, Hill following after him, and Peter couldn’t help the audible exhale he let out. That man was terrifying. 

“Let’s get a drink,” Beck said, clasping a hand on his shoulder.

“But I’m not 21?” Peter asked with his eyebrows furrowed, but he nevertheless let Beck lead him away from the destruction. 

***

The elevator doors opened, and Peter could’ve collapsed in the hallway from exhaustion, but he grabbed his key and opened the door to the apartment. He glanced at his phone’s screen, dimly lit in the dark entryway.  _ 1:45. _

After Beck had led him into a small, yet nice bar, where Peter had gotten lemonade, Beck had just asked him about himself. How long he had been a superhero, what different things that this Earth had that he liked to do, just the trivial stuff. The easy stuff. Beck had avoided asking Peter why he used to live with his Aunt and anything having to do with his living situation. It was nice just talking about his interests, and not having to talk about May or Tony or any of the hard stuff. 

When it had gotten past one am, Beck had let out a yawn. “I think it’s time for you to head home.”

Peter had felt an odd mix of disappointment and relief, as his spidey sense had been tingling the entire night and it was rather draining. “Well, okay,” he said, getting up from his stool. 

“Wait, before you go,” Beck said, pulling out his cellphone. “Fury gave this to me earlier. What’s your phone number?”

“My...my phone number?” Peter stared at him blankly.

He wasn’t sure if Beck got his confusion, as his mask was pulled up just above his mouth, but Beck quickly said, “Yeah, in case I need your help again soon. You did a great job tonight. I don’t know if those elementals are truly gone, or if the energy of the stones could’ve attracted more monsters or aliens, but I’d love your help again,” he finished, giving Peter a genuine smile. 

Peter found himself giving Beck his phone number, despite his spidey sense seeming to scream at him not to.

Peter stared down at his phone, wondering if or when Beck would call. The sense of closeness that he had felt toward the other man in such a short time was weird, but it was true. Beck didn’t look down on him. He treated him like he was an adult, not a kid like the Avengers often did. It was nice to be treated like he was an actual experienced hero, just like Iron Man or Captain America. 

“Peter.”

Peter flinched as the lights in the room came on, and Tony was there, sitting on the couch, an unreadable expression on his face. 

“Did you have fun tonight?” Tony asked, looking directly into Peter’s eyes. 

“Yeah...the mission was fun,” Peter said warily, putting his phone into the pocket of his jeans. 

“Who was it you were fighting with?” 

“He’s from another reality. He’s a superhero named Mysterio.”

“Was he the person you went to a bar with until 1:00?”

Peter swallowed. Tony didn’t look mad, rather the same eerily calmness, like the tense moment right before a snake strikes. “Yeah? But I didn’t drink, I promise. I only had lemonade.”

Tony was silent for a moment. Peter began sweating. “I let you stay out past curfew because of a ‘vague’ job that Fury had for you, and I find out instead that you were fighting a giant monster made of fire only after getting heat warnings from Karen. I wanted to go after you, but Pepper convinced me to let you handle it.

“So I let you handle it. And you don’t get burned alive, but you do go to a bar as a minor with a stranger, who is probably significantly older than you, at one in the morning, all without asking us for permission or even letting me or Pepper know where you were. Do you see the problem here?”

Peter swallowed down the anger that was bubbling in his stomach.  _ Breathe,  _ he thought to himself. But the voice overpowered his thoughts.  _ He doesn’t trust you. He’s not your dad, what gives him the right to tell you what to do?  _

“Sorry, T-Mr. Stark,” he mumbled, forcing his voice to stay neutral. He then turned toward the elevator, the anger building every step he took. Somehow, he made it on, the doors closing behind him as Tony called, “Peter! I wasn’t done-” 

Peter waited a tense moment for Tony to make FRIDAY stop the elevator, but by some stroke of luck, the elevator doors opened and he found the door to his room, not a very angry Tony on the other side.

As soon as he closed the door to his room, he picked up his pillow, stuffed it into his face, and screamed. It wasn’t fair. He wasn’t allowed to celebrate a victory? What about all the parties that the Avengers had together? How was that any different? And Mysterio wasn’t a stranger; he was a teammate. They had brought down a giant fire monster together!

He was old enough to take care of himself! Where was this worry when he had taken away the suit? Where was this worry when Peter told him so many times before the events of Homecoming that there was something wrong with the weapons? Where was this worry when he let Peter fight Thanos in space? 

_ He doesn’t trust you. He just thinks you’re a screw-up. But he’s right. That’s why you’re so mad. Because you lied to him. You’re nothing.  _

Peter shivered as he threw the pillow to the side, curling up on the side of his bed. All of his anger was gone and replaced by a suffocating pressure on his chest, making him feel like he was gasping for air. He stared at the wall, unable to blink or cry or do anything other than remove his beanie and wind his hand into his hair, ripping small chunks out methodically, not registering the blood dripping down his hand and dotting the bed.

_ I’m worthless _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: hair pulling, mentions of an eating disorder
> 
> Sorry that this chapter came out much later than I intended - I've had a very busy past few days. I took a lot of content from Far from Home at the beginning of this chapter, but I think (and hope!!) I made up for it by putting in that second scene. Next chapter should be up in a few days! We're getting closer and closer to the climax, so hold on tight...;)


	22. Awareness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Check the end notes for TW!

If only he could pace. Tony wasn’t sure what to do with himself. When he had gotten that heat warning from Karen, his heart had leaped out of his chest. For a moment, he had lost all awareness of where he was, his eyes glued to the screen of his StarkPad, not registering the bright red triangle that had appeared. 

At first, he had thought that it must be a mistake. Peter had said that Fury had given him a “vague” mission. What that usually meant was that Fury would be explaining the details, and then the next day or a few days later, they would go on the actual mission. A “vague” mission didn’t mean fighting a 20 foot monster that was smashing into buildings in Manhattan. 

He almost had his second heart attack of the night just a few moments later watching the news footage as a small figure in red swung circles around the monster and another small figure blasted some sort of green light at it. When the camera had zoomed in, his jaw dropped. It was Peter. 

He was on the phone, calling Fury within seconds. 

“Fury what the hell is he doing there? He told me you had a mission for him and this is what that is? Did you even think before sending a child into a battle like this?”

“Good to hear from you too, Stark,” Fury started sarcastically. “Did you think before sending him to space?”

“Not uh. Don’t turn this back on me. I told you I tried to send him back. Answer my question. He was supposed to get debriefed tonight! I can’t believe you sent him in without-”   


“Stark, I don’t know what Parker told you, but I debriefed him last night. He knew what we were fighting. So if you’re done wasting my time, I’m a little busy right now.”

“What-” Tony started, but Fury had already hung up. He dropped the phone into his lap, running his palm over his face roughly. He took a deep breath and picked up the phone again, keeping an eye on the news that was playing softly in the background. 

He dialed Peter’s number, but it went to voicemail. Again. Just like it had the other four times he had called. 

“FRI…” he asked, letting his voice drift off. 

“Sorry boss. I can’t get through. She’s blocking me.”

When Tony had updated Karen, he had let her have the option of blocking his calls if it would put Peter in more danger to answer. He felt his chest constrict tighter. This wasn’t good.

“Can you get Pepper down here?” he had asked, and a few minutes later his wife was downstairs, speaking before he could tell her what was going on. 

“I’ve seen the coverage, Tony. And as much as I want to go and help, your suits have the potential of making it worse. I talked to Hill, and she said that the other superhero, called Mysterio, talked about metal making this ‘Elemental’ stronger. We can’t risk bringing an iron suit into this.”

He closed his mouth, letting out a sharp exhale through his nose. “So I’m just supposed to sit here while my kid is fighting something that would usually take all of the Avengers to take down?” 

“Yes,” she had said, taking his hand. “We’re just going to have to trust that he and Mysterio can handle it. The other Avengers are busy, Tony. There’s no backup.”

So he waited. He kept on the news, and when the monster finally evaporated because of Mysterio, he finally felt the pressure in his chest release. But after two hours of sitting there, waiting for Peter to come home, he still hadn’t walked through the door. 

“FRI, where’s Peter?” he asked, staring at the clock above the fireplace that read  _ 12:30.  _

“Would you like me to track his suit?”

“Yes,” he said, feeling a little guilty.

“Peter is currently at Freddy’s Corner with the superhero he fought the Elemental with, referred to as Mysterio,” FRIDAY said, and Tony felt all of his guilt dissipate and be replaced by anger. 

“He is, is he?” Tony muttered, pulling up the suit’s coordinates on his StarkPad. Sure enough, his red dot was located at the bar that Tony had sometimes found himself during the worst of his addiction. 

He dialed Peter’s number, but it went to voicemail. 

“FRI, can you force the call through?” he asked, ready to call again. 

“Peter is either not wearing the suit, or is partially wearing it, as his microphone capabilities are offline.”

He began to call Peter again, but his finger stopped above the call button. He let his phone drop back into his lap. As much as he wanted to send a suit to go and get Peter or to go out and get him himself, if Peter wasn’t dressed as Spider-Man, then that could blow his cover. And the last thing that Tony needed now was having to explain to the public why an Iron Man suit was abducting random people from bars. And as much as Tony didn’t want his underage kid in a bar, he also didn’t want to draw attention to Peter being underage in that bar. That could have serious consequences, especially if he was drinking. 

“FRIDAY, let me know once he leaves the bar. And put Karen through with his blood alcohol content once he leaves as well, if she’s online.” 

He waited again. As each minute went by without Peter walking through the door, his frustration, but also his worry, grew. He continued to ask FRIDAY where Peter was every few minutes, asking what he was doing, just to make sure his kid was safe. Because the only thing worse than being unable to help his kid was being in the dark about whether his kid was safe or not.

He wasn’t sure when Peter had graduated from “the kid” to “his kid,” but he knew the change happened before the blip. After the events of his plane crashing right before the move upstate, Tony had vowed to keep a better eye on Peter so he would never have to fight a supervillain in what were basically pajamas again. And he knew that he could never take away the suit again either. 

One day his heart felt a little bigger at the sight of Peter’s smile, and he knew that something had changed between them. Peter had spent winter break with him, and he had started wishing the kid would come over more than the once a week session and occasional weekends they spent working in his lab. 

_ “ _ _ Tony!” _

_ He looked up from his StarkPad to see Pepper taking a seat next to him on the couch.  _

_ “I’ve been trying to get your attention for the past minute,” she said, sliding closer to him.  _

_ “Sorry, Pep. What’s wrong?” _

_ “Nothing,” she said, a little too quickly. He put down the piece of technology completely and turned to face her. She seemed to take this as a sign to go on. “It’s just...it seems like you’ve been a little down recently. Is there something that’s bothering you?” _

_ He rubbed his face with his right hand, before letting out a sigh. As much as he wanted to, he couldn't lie to Pepper. She always saw right through any bullshit answer he gave her. _

_ “Honestly? I miss Peter. He hasn’t been able to come around in the past few weeks because of school, and yeah...I guess I miss my-the kid.” He forced himself not to blush as to try not to bring more attention to his slip up. But nothing got by Pepper.  _

_ She smirked but just said, “Then tell him that. Ask him when he’s free to come over again.” _

_ “Doesn’t that sound a little strange though? I mean, isn’t it weird to invite him over when it’s not already scheduled or it’s not to work in the lab?” _

_ “Only if you make it weird. It’s not weird to be excited to have friends, Tony. And it’s not weird that you see him like he’s your kid either,” she continued. Tony opened his mouth to protest, unable to hide the pink that tinged his cheek, but she held up her hand. _

_ “Save it,” she said. “I’m not going to make fun of you. Just text him or call him already.” _

_ With that, she stood up and walked away, leaving Tony with an odd feeling in his chest. Pepper really was the best.  _

_ A few days later, after Peter had finished some difficult tests and was free, Tony was reminded of this again as the-...his kid crushed him in Mario Kart for the fourth time in a row. He should really listen to her more often.  _

He was jerked out of his thoughts by the sound of the door opening. The small and pleasant feeling he had from the memory was replaced by an uneasy feeling deep in his stomach. 

_ Be firm,  _ he told himself as he heard Peter’s footsteps come in.  _ But don’t escalate. He’s been through a lot; he has to know that you’re just trying to look out for him and not trying to control him.  _

***

What went wrong? Tony had tried to be direct and to the point without raising his voice, even when Peter didn’t seem to get the reason he was mad about Peter going out with a stranger until the early hours of the morning on top of  _ lying  _ to him. 

But Peter had just muttered out a “sorry” and turned around and left, without letting him finish. He had wanted to tell Peter not to do that again, not because he didn’t trust him, but because he was worried about him. 

And when Peter had called him “Mr. Stark” again? That had stung. He knew that there were going to be difficulties parenting Peter, especially after May’s death. And Peter had seemingly been adjusting pretty well so far. He was great with Morgan, and he always offered to help around the house, perhaps a little too much. His reaction to Tony tonight seemed unprecedented.

_ Or was it?  _ Tony thought to himself. Was this completely out of the blue? Or had Peter been acting weirdly all along? What if his pleasant and calm disposition was what was odd after everything his kid had been through? After all, it had been five years since Tony had seen him. 

Was that part of the problem too? Had there been some sort of side effect to being blipped? He closed his eyes for a moment and opened them again, but he wasn’t in his apartment anymore. He gasped as he recognized Titan, the ruined waste amidst the orange background.

And there Peter was, laying in his arms and turning into dust again as he felt the teenagers hands gripping against his back. He felt Peter’s tears dripping down onto his hands, and then they were gone because Peter was gone, and his dust drifted away as Tony sat there frozen in shock. 

_ No! Where’s my kid?  _ Tony thought desperately to himself, grabbing at the air as the dust seemed to slip out of his fingertips. He was gone. His kid was gone. And it was all his fault. 

“Boss?”

His eyes snapped open as he looked around, somehow back in his apartment again. His throat felt rough, like sandpaper, but he managed to say, “FRIDAY?”   


“Boss, you were unresponsive. I noticed a spike in your heart rate.”

“Sorry, I’m okay. But FRI?”

“Yes, boss?”

“Let’s go up to the third floor.”

Tony moved the small knob on his chair, and moved it towards the now open door of the elevator. His motorized wheelchair had finally come in, and although he couldn’t get in and out of it by himself, it was nice that he didn’t need to depend on Pepper to push him everywhere anymore. 

The doors opened to the almost completed lab, and FRIDAY turned on the lights automatically as he wheeled himself in. 

“Okay FRI, pull up accredited articles and anything else you can find on teenagers dealing with grief. And show me the top result,” he said as he wheeled over to his holographic computer screen. Instantly, an article appeared, and Tony shifted in his seat. He pushed away the anxiety that seemed to swim around in his stomach at the fact that he had thought he was on Titan again only a few minutes ago. That could be saved for another day. His kid was more important. Besides, he had a lot of reading ahead of him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Flashbacks (like in PTSD or ASD)
> 
> I hope this chapter begins to makeup for all the shit that Tony hasn't noticed...he's getting there guys;)
> 
> I'm so excited to write these next few chapters, ya'll - I can't even begin to put it in to words how much so. Thanks for your continued support - it means everything to me:) Leave a kudos or comment if you want, and thanks for reading!


	23. The Text

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW at the end!

Peter opened his eyes with some difficulty. They were crusted around the edges and itchy with dryness. He didn’t think he got any sleep, but he had settled for closing his eyes to try to trick himself into feeling like he had. It hadn’t worked. 

He stood up, immediately crashing back down to the floor, landing on his knees, thankfully avoiding twisting his ankle. He tried to lift his head, but was so dizzy that he kept his chin tucked down into his chest, his eyes squeezed shut to try to keep himself from falling over again. He rubbed absentmindedly at his head, fingers grazing over the newest scabs from last night. Thankfully, his healing abilities made the small scabs leave quickly, although the hair didn’t grow back nearly as quick.

After a few minutes, he took a deep breath and stood up, grabbing a hold of his bed to pull himself up. He felt around on his nightstand until he found his phone, and grabbed it, surprised to see that it was only 5 am. 

_ Damn.  _ He had thought he had been in his room longer than that. He took a step forward, stumbling, but thankfully not fully falling again. 

“Peter? You’ve tripped twice now. Are you okay?” FRIDAY’s soft voice filled his room.

“I’m fine, don’t worry.”

“You seem to be sleep deprived and your blood sugar is low. Should I alert Mr. Stark or Ms. Potts to get you something to eat?”

“Wait. You don’t have to tell them? Is this the same for Karen?” He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. 

“Both your suit’s programming and my own have mandatory reporting on life-threatening situations, if you’ve sustained bodily injuries, or are in severe and incapacitating mental stress. But Mr. Stark added in optional reporting based on your wishes when he upgraded our systems in an attempt to respect your privacy. However, reporting is still up to my and your suit’s discretion.”

“Why aren’t you reporting right now?” Peter asked. Really, he wanted to see how far FRIDAY would go with letting him have control.

“Your hunger levels are not life-threateningly high, and your sleep deprivation has not yet caused you incapacitating mental stress. Mr. Stark programmed me to give you recommendations to solve any of these issues. I would recommend that you ask Ms. Potts or Boss to make you breakfast and then I would recommend that you sleep.”

“But you can’t make me, right?” He didn’t think that Tony had programmed force-feeding into FRIDAY, but he wouldn’t put it past him.

“No.”

A grim smile spread across his face. He didn’t say anything further to the AI as he left his room and stepped into the elevator. He wasn’t sure what caused him to press the button to the third floor instead of back down to the first floor. Maybe it was because he was curious about the progress that had been made to the lab. Maybe it was because he didn’t expect anyone to be in there this early in the morning. Maybe it was because the lab had always been his happy place since meeting Tony, and he really needed that.

But whatever had possessed him to step out into the almost finished lab immediately vanished as soon as he noticed that he wasn’t alone. Tony was here. At five am. In the lab. Staring at something on his computer. 

Peter began to turn back around, to get back into the elevator before Tony noticed him, but Tony’s ears must’ve been better than Peter thought, because Tony spun his chair around. His eyes widened at the sight of Peter, who had his finger hovering above the down arrow.

“Peter? What’s going on? What are you doing here?”

“I…” he let his voice trail off. Pink tinged his cheeks as he remembered the events of the early morning, when he had stormed off, leaving Tony in the middle of his lecture. 

Tony began to wheel his chair over, and Peter felt frozen. His face paled further as Tony stopped only a few inches away, looking up at the teengaer standing above him. 

“Pete...are you doing okay?” Tony asked softly, his left hand reaching out towards Peter. 

Peter jerked away. “Can we build something? Anything?”

He pretended not to notice the way that Tony’s eyes fell at his jerky movement, but he nodded. “Of course, kid. We can build anything you want. But before we start, do you want to take off the hat? It’s a little hot in here and I’ve seen you with a bad hair day.”

Peter’s eyes widened. “No! I mean...it’s just really cozy to wear, you know?”

Tony gave him an odd look, but he just nodded. Peter’s shoulders sagged in relief. 

That’s how they ended up side by side, tinkering with one of Tony’s latest robots that was supposed to be an assistant, much like Dum-E. But it seemed set on mimicking the robot that Tony would often get frustrated at, as the first thing it did upon powering up was whip its arm upwards and into the ceiling light with enough force to break it open, raining glass onto the floor, missing both Peter and Tony by inches. 

“You actual idiot,” Peter muttered as he gingerly swept up the broken glass into a dustpan, and he felt a little smile break out on his face when he heard Tony laugh. 

“What should we name it, kid? I think it might rival Dum-E for title of ‘absolute moron.’”

“Hmm...what about JJB? So then it’s named after the most worthless Star Wars character to ever exist?”

“Jar Jar Binks?” Tony guessed, smiling. 

“Exactly.”   


“I like it. I’m sure it’ll live up to its namesake.”

Peter’s smile got a little bigger. “For sure.”   


Tony’s easygoing expression changed. Peter felt his heart lurch in his chest. “Peter? I just want you to know...you can talk to me about anything. You know that, right? I’m here for you, kid.”

Did Tony know? Did he find the hair? Peter felt his mind spiraling, but he forced himself to plaster on a casual smile. “I’m fine, Tony. What’s wrong, old man? Are you getting soft?”

Tony didn’t take the bait. “Seriously, Peter. Anything at all,” he murmured, reaching out his hand and placing it on Peter’s shoulder. He didn’t flinch away, but the spot where Tony's hand met his shoulder felt like it was on fire. He couldn’t speak, but instead nodded, trying his best to keep his composure.

Tony seemed okay for now with his response, because he gave his shoulder a small squeeze and rolled over to the elevator. “It’s time for breakfast, Pete. Are you coming?”

“I’ll be down in a second,” he said, still frozen in place. 

“Don’t take too long,” Tony said as the elevator doors shut around him, leaving Peter alone in the lab. Peter let out a long exhale, feeling any energy that working in the lab brought him leave his body. 

_ He’s starting to suspect you,  _ the voice hissed.  _ Pull yourself together.  _

He took a deep breath, before getting on the elevator and going downstairs to join the Starks. 

***

“Peter!” Morgan yelled, running up to him and flinging her arms around his knees. “I missed you!” she cried, her face pressed into his legs, muffling her voice. 

“I saw you last night, silly!” he said, but still leaned down and hugged Morgan regardless. 

“That was so long ago!” she giggled. “Come color with me!”

“He needs to eat, Maguna,” Tony said, ruffling Morgan’s hair as she ran back over to the table where Peter was taking a seat with the rest of the Starks. “Let him at least eat breakfast first.”

“Okay, fine! But then can we play?” 

“After I talk to Peter about something.”

Peter’s adrenaline spiked so quickly that he almost missed the rest of the conversation. He began to see black spots, but he told himself  _ breathe, just breathe,  _ and they momentarily subsided.

“Promise?”

“Promise,” Tony said, leaning down and kissing Morgan on the head. Pepper gave a small smile at the sight. 

Was Tony finally going to yell at him about last night? He had left before Tony was done. What if they were kicking him out?   


_ They hate you. They just want you gone. _

“Peter?” 

His head shot up as he saw Pepper looking at him with concern. 

“Sorry. What?” he managed, trying to smile at her. 

“I asked if you wanted any toast for breakfast?” she repeated, ready to hand him a plate. 

“Yeah, that sounds good,” he said, his stomach screaming at him to refuse. But that would make him look more suspicious than he already did. He had to force it down. Tony and Pepper were watching him so closely; there was no sneaking it into the garbage this time. 

After choking down the toast, and subsequently refusing the eggs Pepper then tried to give him, Pepper glanced at Tony, sharing  _ the look  _ between them, before grabbing Morgan’s hand. 

“Come on, sweetheart. Let’s get you dressed.”

“But-”

“Remember what Daddy said? He needs to talk to Peter first.”

Peter almost wished that Morgan would refuse to leave and throw a tantrum so he didn’t have to face this alone. But she just sunk her head and shuffled her feet on the ground as Pepper led her down the hall and into her room, closing the door behind them. 

Tony rolled over his wheelchair so that he was directly next to Peter. 

“Can we continue our discussion from last night?” Tony asked gently, looking Peter in the eyes. 

_ Stay calm. He’s only going to suspect more if you lash out.  _ The voice was actually helping for once. 

“I’m sorry, Tony. I was just really tired and didn’t mean to yell,” he said, trying to sound sincere. The voice seemed to be arguing with itself between not lashing out, and anger about Tony trying to control him. It felt like something was playing tug-of-war with his head, trying to rip his brain in half in order to win.

Tony’s mouth dropped open slightly before he closed it again. “Umm...thanks...thanks for apologizing, kid,” he said, shock written all over his face. Clearly, he had been expecting much more of a fight than what he got. “So, no more going out with strangers in the middle of the night or at any point, okay? Let me and Pepper know where you’re going.”

“Okay,” Peter said, clenching his hand underneath the chair so that Tony couldn’t see. He gritted his teeth. “I won’t.”

Another lie. If Tony wasn’t okay with Peter meeting Mysterio the first time, there was no way that he would like that Peter gave him his number and was constantly checking to see if Mysterio had texted so that they could meet again. 

Tony seemed at a loss for words for a second, before he cleared his throat. “Okay. Well, good talk. Thanks for understanding, kid.”

He turned away from Peter, looking a little confused. Peter sagged with relief. He had thankfully avoided lashing out again. If he was trying to convince Tony that he was doing well, and to get Tony to stop asking him if he was alright, then he would have to do better. 

As he played with Morgan, he felt Tony’s eyes on him, boring into him as if Peter was a program Tony couldn’t quite figure out. 

***

Nothing was adding up. Tony glared at his StarkPad, resisting the urge to fling it to the ground out of frustration. If he thought that little kids were hard, nothing prepared him for figuring out the mind of a teenager. 

It seemed as if Peter was a puzzle, but a puzzle that was changing the size and the shape and how the pieces fit together every other day. It had been over a month since Peter had been to that bar, and there hadn’t been another incident like that since. He had been patrolling most nights, but was once again the pleasant and respectful kid Tony always knew him to be, if not a little more closed-off, which was to be expected as he had just had his life uprooted.

But there was something...off about him. The way that the eyebags underneath Peter’s eyes didn’t seem to be getting better. The fact that it was now June and Peter was still wearing that beanie almost everyday, but wouldn’t take it off, insisting that it was comfortable. How Pepper and Tony always made sure there was tons of food on Peter’s plate, but that Peter seemed to be getting smaller and smaller, like he was about to fade away. How there was a permanent wariness in Peter’s eyes, even when he was in the lab, like he was always calculating the right next move.

All of his research seemed to reach dead ends; everything Peter did was contradicting himself. It was infuriating, but at the same time disappointing. He wasn’t mad at his kid, never at his kid. Just at himself for not being able to help.

“Tony? Rhodey’s here. Are you ready to go?” Pepper asked, slinging her purse over her arm. 

“Yeah,” he said, powering down the device and leaving it on the coffee table. Pepper rolled over his least favorite thing ever created, his walker, and he grimaced as he pulled himself up while she held it in place. She cocked an eyebrow at him. 

“I got it, see? I’m getting better.” He had finally been able to start working on walking in physical therapy last week, and had been given a modified walker that had a place to lean his right side on so that he could better support his weight. Although he hadn’t been paralyzed like Rhodey had all those years ago, he felt that he finally understood a fraction of the pain that Rhodey had gone through to walk again. Physical therapy was no joke. 

“Grandma! What are you doing up?” Rhodey asked as he came into the living room, grinning at Tony.

“I’m still moving better than you did when you were recovering,” Tony said, glaring at him. 

“That’s not a fair comparison and you know it!” Rhodey protested, throwing his arms up. 

“Don’t let my kids run away,” Tony said, only partially kidding as he slowly made his way to the front door (with much more of Pepper’s help than he wanted to admit).

As the door shut behind them, Pepper leaned over and whispered, “Are you ready, really? Don’t bullshit me, Tony.”

“I would never, Ms. Potts,” he murmured, taking slow steps towards the elevator. After a second he said, “What if she says no?”

“Then you’ll be fine. You don’t need a prosthetic to do anything, Tony. You’re even building in the lab again with Peter. What do you need it for, anyway?”

He was silent. He obviously wanted it, but Pepper had a point. After struggling a bit at first, he was building a little now. He was helping cook dinner again. He even had begun practicing writing with his left hand. Everything was a lot harder, but he was starting to manage. 

“I guess...I guess that it would just make things easier.”

“But since when has Tony Stark taken the easy way out?” Pepper asked, giving him a pointed look. “I’m not saying don’t get a prosthetic if they can give you one. I’m just saying that it might not be as bad as you think without one. What was it that Peter said to you at the beginning of this, that you’re a superhero? Remember that, Tony. You, Tony Stark, are a superhero. It’ll all be okay. ” 

Tony nodded, unable to figure out how to respond to her, as they made their way down the elevator, to Dr. Ramierz once again. 

***

Peter let out a long sigh as he closed his bedroom door, sinking down to the floor without even making it to his bed first. This had been the third hardest month of his life, only narrowly losing to when he had lost May and Ben.

He hadn’t heard anything from Beck, and it was making him antsy. What if Beck didn’t really need him? What if he just said those things in the bar to be nice? On top of that, he had been sort of communicating with Ned and MJ, but he could sense the frustration his friends had for him at his meager replies. In turn, Peter just became more angry with himself. 

If May were here, he could talk to her. She’d understand. It’s ironic. The only person who could make May’s death any less painful was May herself. He squeezed his eyes shut as he pictured her holding him close, whispering, “It’s going to be okay,” as she stroked his hair gently. He could almost smell her lavender perfume and feel her lips on his forehead. He blinked away the tears that threatened to fall. 

Sometimes, he wasn’t sure how he managed to keep it together in front of the Starks. He was determined not to set off Tony’s suspicions again, but he found that it was getting harder and harder to control his own temper. It was like being on that game where you’d try to stand on a floating log, one of those games that he would always beg Ben to go on when he was a kid. One wrong movement, one wrong thought, and it would send him spiraling into the deep murky waves. Pepper and Tony meant well. He knew that. But they were walking on eggshells around him. Even worse, it seemed as if Tony was determined to remind Peter that he could talk to him at least every few days, giving him that serious look that made Peter want to break down crying. But he couldn’t do that. So his frustration grew. 

Patrolling had been extremely boring as well. He hadn’t dealt with anything harder than a couple of measly car thefts in the past month, and he was itching for more excitement. Without anything to distract him, his thoughts would run more rampant than ever. More than anything else, he just wanted to escape his own mind. 

Maybe that was why when he glanced down at his phone and saw a new message from an unknown number, he practically threw the device across the room in excitement.

_ (718)-345-7778: Peter? It’s Mysterio. Are you free to talk? It’s important _

He forced himself not to respond how he wanted, with a ton of gibberish text to convey his elation. He could do this. He could sound professional.

_ P: Just tell me when and where to meet you  _ (He deleted that and tried again.) 

_ P: Where and when do you want to meet?  _ (He furiously backspaced once more.)

_ P: Ok, where and when?  _ (He bit his lip for a moment and sent it, immediately regretting that decision.)

_ M: 7513 14th st. - be there @ 9 pm _

For the first time in weeks, besides for when he was in the lab, he let a smile break out across his face. Finally. He  _ finally _ had something to look forward to. The grin didn’t fade as he got out his suit, laying it neatly on the bed. Now all he could do was wait. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: mentions of hairpulling (very vague) and eating disorders
> 
> OMG!! Thank you all so much for over 10k hits!! I literally screamed wowwww. I never thought that my story would get this much support, and it means the world to me that y'all are reading, commenting, and leaving kudos. Just...thank you so much!! :) <3
> 
> Side note...I made a tumblr! It's theexhaustedalchemist (same as Ao3!), so follow me (or whatever you do, I literally have no idea how it works yet eek) on there. I don't know what I'm gonna post, or how much it's gonna relate to things I post on Ao3, but yeah, I thought I'd join the fun:)


	24. Worst Nightmare

“How did it go?” Tony asked, raising his eyebrow at his friend, who currently had Morgan on his back with her hands over his eyes. 

“Does this tell you anything?” Rhodey asked. Morgan giggled as she muffled his voice by putting her hands over his mouth. 

“Good job, Maguna. Show him who’s boss,” Tony smirked. 

“Tony!” Pepper glared at him. 

“I’m kidding, relax!” Tony exclaimed, trying to ignore the death-stare that his wife was giving him. 

“Morgan, it’s time to get off,” he said, and had to bite his lip to keep from laughing at his daughter trying to tickle Rhodey as he set her down. 

Rhodey straightened his shirt, rolling his eyes at Tony. “She gets this from you.”

“Oh, I know that,” Tony started, taking a seat on the couch slowly. “But really, did everything go well?”

“Yep, this one here was pretty good,” Rhodey said as he ruffled Morgan’s hair, smiling at her protests. 

Tony glanced around for a moment, his heart falling when he didn’t see his other kid. “Did...did Peter come down at all?” he asked, lowering his voice. 

“No,” Rhodey responded, his eyes softened.

“Thank you for watching her,” Pepper said, giving Rhodey a quick hug. “You’re sure you don’t want to stay for dinner?”

“I’ve already got a date tonight,” he said, grinning. “With the Hulk.”

“But he’s not cuter than me, right Rhodes?” Tony asked, keeping a straight face. 

“Oh he’s totally cuter than you. See ya,” Rhodey said, winking at Morgan and heading towards the door. 

“Not true!” Tony called after him, as Pepper said, “See you soon,” at the same time. 

“There isn't anyone we could ask to watch Morgan besides him?” Tony grumbled as the door shut. 

“Tony!”

“I’m kidding, jeez!”

Pepper rolled her eyes as she turned towards her daughter. “Morgan, how about you go and pick out a board game to play from your room?”

“Can Peter play with us?” she asked, smiling widely. 

“We can ask him,” Pepper said. Morgan ran off to her room, where Tony knew she would spend the next five minutes trying to make a decision. 

Pepper turned back towards Tony, her expression worried. “Tony, are you-”

“I’m fine, Pep,” he said, not looking at her. It was easy to ignore the outcome of the appointment, where the neurologist had checked over everything, and like the last appointment, had just given him a sympathetic look and a “Sorry, but nothing yet.”

“It’s okay to be worried about your health, Tony,” she said, her eyebrows furrowing. 

“But I don’t want to be,” he mumbled, putting his head in his hand. 

“I know,” she said softly, putting her hand on his shoulder. “But at least Dr. Green said that your burns are pretty much healed and that the amputation site is looking much better,” she continued, giving him an encouraging smile. 

_ Amputation site.  _ His eyes widened as he was back in the compound, the perfect blue sky of what was supposed to be a new day for all of them after Bruce snapped, looking down upon them. But then, a giant ship, looming above the compound. A missile coming towards them. And then more and more as everything exploded around him, his body thrown back as he braced himself, hoping that his teammates would somehow make it out of-

“Tony!” 

_ You’re not there. You’re safe. You’re with Pepper. You’re okay.  _

“Tony?”

“I’m...okay,” he got out, trying to slow his fast breaths. “Just...give me…”

Pepper got the message as she sat next to him, close, but not quite touching him. He closed his eyes, focusing on getting his breathing to slow down. Finally, he took a deep breath, opening his eyes to see his wife looking at him, her face white and her eyes wide. 

His hand trembled in his lap. “Sorry.”

“What was that? Was that...was it like the first time we saw Dr. Ramierz?”

He nodded, wiping his hand under his nose and sniffing.

“What happened? You were here one minute, and then you had this terrified look on your face and you didn’t seem to hear or register anything I said to you for a whole minute. You were just staring straight ahead.” 

How was he supposed to answer that?  _ Yeah, I’ve been having flashbacks to the traumatic events in the past few months, and I can’t stop it from happening. But don’t worry, it’s probably nothing. Or it could be PTSD again or something totally different. Basically, I have no idea what’s happening to me! _

“I think...I think I need to talk to Bruce.”

Pepper closed her mouth, nodding. If Tony thought that he needed to talk to Bruce, she would understand that even  _ he  _ didn’t fully know what was going on. She leaned over and kissed his cheek, leaning her forehead against his for a moment as she gently cupped his chin. He saw her eyelids flutter gently, and he leaned in, relishing the comforting feeling of her hands on him. 

“Let’s play Sorry!” Morgan squealed, her shrill voice breaking the silence.

He saw Pepper turn up her lips slightly as she pulled away.  _ What can we do?  _ her expression said, and Tony was inclined to agree as Morgan began to dump the pieces of the game onto the coffee table. 

“Are you gonna ask Peter now?” Morgan asked as Pepper shuffled the cards, giving Tony her biggest “puppy-dog” eyes. 

“Okay, I’ll go ask him,” Tony said, and cracked a smile as Morgan squealed in delight. 

Pepper began to get up, but Tony quickly stopped her. “It’s okay. I can get up and do it.”

She gave him a nervous look but sat back down. He pretended not to notice her foot hooked around the bottom of the walker so that it wouldn’t move. After finally managing to get up, he slowly made his way over to the elevator, sighing with relief as the doors closed around him. 

Tony knew that Peter didn’t really come out when Rhodey was over, though he was unsure why. Maybe Rhodey intimidated him, or he just didn’t know what to say to the older superhero, but either way, Peter would stop playing with Morgan once Rhodey came over and would hole up in his room. He was never rude about it, and if Rhodey stayed for supper, Peter would be present at the table, nodding politely to whatever the adults and Morgan were talking about. 

He was grateful that Sorry! gave him an excuse to get Peter back out of his room. Even though he saw his kid all the time, he still missed him when he was gone for a few hours. Tony raised a hand and gently knocked on the door. 

“Kid?” he asked, turning the doorknob to find it unlocked. After a moment without any response, Tony opened the door, an uneasy feeling in his stomach. Was Peter okay? Why wasn’t he responding? 

But he felt relief wash over him as he saw Peter laying on his bed, on top of his covers, wearing his jeans. His clothes were wrinkled, and the hair that wasn’t contained by the beanie fell over his eyes. His Spider-Man suit laid at the base of the bed, slightly rumpled, and Tony wanted to laugh. Leave it to Peter to be so excited to patrol that he would set out the suit. 

Tony was about to turn around and close the door, when he heard an odd sound. He turned back around and made his way closer to Peter, until he was right next to his head. Peter’s face was anything but serene. His mouth was drawn up in a tense line and his body shook. He rolled over slightly, and Tony could see that his eyes were squinted shut. But the worst part was the  _ sobs.  _

Peter was making these little hiccuping sounds, like he was crying so hard that he wasn’t breathing properly. His chest was rising and falling rapidly but erratically, his chest pushing out with emphasis on each sob. Peter’s eyes were wet, and Tony could see tears tracking down his face, his cheeks flushed red. Every so often, he would whimper, and he was shaking so hard that Tony thought he must be having something like a seizure. 

Tony’s gut instinct was to shake him awake, but as he tried to take his hand off of his walker, he stumbled, barely catching himself. If he didn’t have the modification to support his right side, he would have completely fallen. So he had to do something else. 

“FRI? Can you perform protocol 411?”

“Yes, boss.” Was it his imagination or did FRIDAY sound sympathetic?   


The lights in the room began to brighten, almost blinding Tony with their intensity and the bed that Peter was laying on began to vibrate. It seemed to do the trick. Within seconds, Peter’s brown eyes opened, a wild, panicked expression in them as he quickly sat up, gasping, tears not ceasing. 

Peter’s eyes widened as he noticed Tony, and he drew his knees up to his chest and placed his head into them, his shoulders shaking as he silently cried. FRIDAY turned down the lights again, and the bed stopped shaking. Tony gingerly took a seat on the bed, hesitantly reaching his hand out. “Peter? Are you okay, kid?”

That was all it took. Like a dam breaking, Peter was sobbing, his head still pressed down into his knees. Tony felt tears prickle in the backs of his eyes. No. He couldn’t break down now. Peter needed him to stay strong. He managed to slide closer to Peter, to where he could set his hand on Peter’s shoulder.

“Oh, Peter.  _ Kid.  _ It’s going to be okay,” he murmured, and Peter didn’t respond, only cried harder. After a moment’s hesitation, Peter lifted his head from his knees, and in one quick motion lunged forward and wrapped his arms around Tony’s shoulders as he sat on his knees. Tony almost toppled, but was able to lean into his left hand that had caught himself on the bed and remained upright. After he stabilized himself, he leaned into Peter, taking his hand off the bed and wrapping it around the small teenager. 

Peter’s head was tucked into Tony’s left shoulder, and Tony could feel his shirt quickly becoming soaked with tears as he rubbed soothing circles onto Peter’s back. Peter clutched onto the back of Tony’s shirt like a koala, his fingers scrunching the material into little balls.

“You’re okay, kid. I’ve got you,” he whispered, and finally,  _ finally  _ Peter’s sobs subsided until he was breathing heavily and sniffing, the tears now a trickle instead of a flood. 

After a few minutes, Peter pulled away with a sniff, pressing his palms into his eyes and wiping. Red tinged his eyes, and his face was all blotchy, and the look on his face was of pure  _ misery,  _ but at least the tears had finally stopped. 

Eyes downcast to the floor, Peter mumbled, “Sorry, Tony. I...I didn’t mean to-”

“Don’t apologize. You have nothing to be sorry for,” Tony interrupted, his voice soft but firm. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asked after a moment, when it was clear that Peter wasn’t going to speak again willingly. 

He shook his head violently, his beanie threatening to fall off. 

“Okay. But if...or, or when you need to talk? I’m here for you, okay?”

Peter nodded, still not looking at Tony. 

“I’m not sure it’s a good idea to patrol tonight,” Tony said, frowning while taking in the teenager’s fragile state. “Why don’t you take the night off and we can watch a movie, or play a-”   


“No!” Peter yelped, and he blushed as Tony raised an eyebrow at him. “No. Please. It was just a bad dream, and it didn’t have anything to do with Spider-Man, I promise! Just let me go.”   


If he let Peter go tonight, there could very easily be negative consequences, to both his mental and physical health. But if he didn’t, if he forced Peter not to go, then Peter would be hurt in a completely different way. He had a feeling that if he wanted to stop Peter from going, it would come down to taking away the suit. And Peter would never forgive him if he did that again. Not after what happened at Homecoming. 

“Okay. You can go. But if at any point you want to stop, or don’t feel up to it, give me a call. Pepper or Happy can get you anywhere, anywhere at all, and bring you home, okay? We’ve all got your back.”

Peter smiled softly. “Thank you, Tony.”

“No problem, kid,” He said, reaching out and squeezing Peter’s shoulder. Almost to himself, he continued, “If I don’t ask then Morgan will have my head. Do you want to play Sorry! with us? You don’t have to, but Morgan begged me to at least ask you.”

Another, slightly amused smile ghosted Peter’s lips. “Not today. But I will next time.”

“Okay, but Morgan will hold you to that,” he finished with a teasing grin as he got back up. 

“I know,” Peter replied, swinging his legs back up on the bed once Tony was making his way towards the door. 

“I’ll see you later, kid. Just let me know when you’re about to leave.”

“I will,” Peter said, giving Tony a small smile as Tony closed the door behind him. 

Tony almost went into the elevator, but stopped for a second. “FRIDAY?”

“Yes, boss?”

“Can you program protocol 411 for Peter’s room automatically, just like it’s set for Morgan and my room?”

“Of course.”

“Thank you,” he replied, letting out a long breath. Although he wasn’t happy about Peter going out tonight, at least he could relax a little now that he knew FRIDAY would stop Peter during his next nightmare.

“And one more thing?”

“What is it, boss?”   


“Send a message to Bruce Banner. Tell him I need him to come over here as soon as he can.”   


***

_ Why would he want to meet here? Shouldn’t we be at one of Fury’s places?  _ Peter thought as he glanced up at the building. He pulled off his mask and tucked it away, the dusk night a welcome change from his home’s artificial lighting. Although the first place that he had met Beck wasn’t exactly a typical secret base, it had been on a pretty busy street, and there had been plenty of foot traffic on the sidewalk outside.

This place looked abandoned. The nearby buildings had obviously all been warehouses of some kind, but didn’t look occupied for at least twenty years. The building Peter was standing in front of was a little less of an occupational hazard, but Peter was sure that it hadn’t been running in the past few years. 

He took a deep breath and walked up to the steel door, avoiding broken glass that littered the crumbling asphalt beneath him. His hand faltered right before he could hit the door, dropping down to his side. Peter had broken down earlier. And even worse, it had been in front of Tony. Maybe Tony was right. Was it too late to turn around and ask Mysterio for a rain check?

_ Beck said that it was important. He’ll never want to work with you again if you bail,  _ the voice hissed, but at the same time, it growled,  _ You’re weak. You can’t handle this, you never could.  _

Peter shook his head, trying to clear away his thoughts. He took a shaky breath, and pushed his knuckles to the door, where they rapped three times, before he took a few steps back. 

For a moment, there was no sound of footsteps on the other side, no creaking of the door opening. Did he have the wrong address? This was where Karen had taken him when he had asked for the way here. Karen wasn’t wrong, was she?

Finally, the door opened, and Peter felt the tenseness in his chest soften. There stood Beck, in his suit but without his cape or helmet. He looked like a Roman soldier rather than a superhero. Somehow that was less intimidating. 

Peter began to smile at him, but felt it fade away at the look on Beck’s face. 

“Beck? What-”   


“Peter, I have something to show you,” he said, and pulled Peter inside, looking around for a moment as if to see if he had been followed, before quickly closing and locking the door behind him, causing his spidey sense to scream in protest. 

“Seriously, what’s going on?” Peter asked, feeling his stomach knot. He felt jittery, adrenaline rushing through his veins.   


Beck didn’t answer as he walked further into the dim building, only illuminated by the fading light shining through broken windows. Thanks to his heightened vision, he could see a few desks scattered around the room, some flipped over, and others missing legs. The room smelled musty, and he almost gagged on the scent of something obviously dead that invaded his nostrils. 

The older man led Peter to a desk that was still upright, and a laptop sat there. With a jolt, Peter realized that it was up and running, not decimated like the rest of the warehouse. 

“Beck, what is this?” he asked as the man entered a password and the home screen came up. 

Beck finally turned to face him. “Peter, early this morning I went back to the headquarters that Fury had us at a month ago, because I was supposed to go over some things we talked about at the conference. But I must’ve gotten there too early, because he wasn’t there yet. Only Hill was there, but after letting me in, she disappeared to another part of the building. Point is, I was alone for a while. 

“I peeked at one of the computer screens, because I had been waiting for like 20 minutes and I was bored. I know that’s not the smartest thing, I got that. But you won’t believe what I found open.”

He clicked open his email and opened a recent message. Gesturing to the screen, Beck looked back at Peter with wide eyes. “I don’t really know how to say this, but just read it. I was able to take pictures of the screen and send it to my email.”

Peter looked at Beck with wary eyes, before slowly focusing on the screen. The attachment was open, and it did indeed look like a picture of a computer screen. His heart fluttered with anticipation. What could be so bad that Beck couldn’t even come out right and say it?

His heart dropped through the floor. Open was an official report dated back a few months before Peter had come back. There, looking just as she had the last time he had seen her, was a picture of May. His eyes frantically scanned the report. The title was blatant and bold, sending Peter’s entire chest feeling like it was about to collapse:  **_May Parker - Possible Homicide?_ **

“What...I-I don’t...I don’t understand,” Peter gasped, his lungs on fire with how fast he was breathing. He had tunnel vision, only able to focus on the report in front of him.

He distantly heard Beck say, “Peter, I didn’t want to show you this. But it looks as if May was murdered.”

“Murdered,” he mumbled, not fully processing the word he said. “Murdered?” 

“And that’s not all of it. I’m sorry, Peter,” Beck said, placing a hand on Peter’s shoulder. 

“What are you-” Peter started, his eyebrows furrowed as he looked further into the report. His jaw dropped open

**_Suspects: Anthony Edward Stark_ **

**_Connection: Friend, connections to nephew Peter Benjamin Parker_ **

**_Motive: ?_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think! I'm sorry (not sorry) for that;) See you soon...


	25. Innocence: Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please check the end for TW!

It felt as if everything was crashing down around him. The name burned into his brain:  **Anthony Edward Stark** . The picture of May smiling seeming to fry a hole inside his brain at the fact that she would never smile again. The words  **homicide** and  **suspect** near Tony’s name. Those things should never go near each other. It was like trying to put ketchup on a sandwich; it just  _ didn’t work.  _

“That...I...it can’t-” Peter felt as though every nerve in his brain was short-circuited. He couldn’t think properly. He couldn’t breathe and was suffocating and there were black spots in his vision and he was swaying forward-

He felt strong hands on his shoulder, and he was seated on the ground, although he had no idea how he got there. Though he knew that Beck was there, he knew that he wasn’t alone, his hands gripped into his hair, and began to pull, not holding back. In a sort of frenzy, he began to pull chunk after chunk out, the throbbing sensation dulled by the explosion of pain in his lungs as if they were on fire. 

On their own, his hands went up again, but were stopped. He looked upwards, blinking as tears that he didn’t know were in his eyes began to fall. 

“Peter, you’ve got to breathe,” Beck’s voice said, although his face was clouded in Peter’s vision. 

Breathe? Wasn’t he doing that? He focused for a moment, and realized that his breaths were shallow and rapid, but he couldn’t seem to get them to slow down. 

“Can’t...breathe,” he gasped, leaning forward and clutching his chest with his hands. His hands were being lifted and he was being moved back so that his hands were on top of his head with Beck’s hands underneath his as a barrier, and his back was pressed against the side of the desk so that he was sitting up straight. 

“Try to take deep breaths now,” Beck said, keeping his hands underneath Peter’s.

Finally Peter’s chest didn’t feel like it was going to collapse, and he was finally able to take a few normal breaths. But as soon as the words  **Anthony Edward Stark** and  **homicide** came to his mind again, there was a lurching feeling in his stomach, and he leaned forward and vomited onto the floor in front of him, coughing violently as his stomach spasmed. 

He couldn’t stop, heaving onto the floor in front of him as his stomach tried to rid itself of every last bit of food or drink he’d had in the last day, which wasn’t much to begin with. Tears streamed down his face as the stench of bile filled his nostrils and left an awful bitter acid taste in his mouth as he continued to cough, nothing more able to come up. 

And then he was sobbing, the coughing finally stopped as he stared at the mess he had just created on the floor. Beck sat next to him, not touching him, but remaining close by. Peter let out a sniff as he turned his eyes up to Beck, his eyes finally dry. 

The look on Mysterio’s face was unreadable. He didn’t look sympathetic, but not happy either. Just troubled, as if this was a simple fact that he had come to terms with, and it was just like reading an upsetting story in the newspaper. 

“Peter, I’m sorry. I didn’t want to show you that. But you have the right to know.”

_ Does he have proof? _

Everything inside him zoned in on that one thought. He didn’t want to believe that Tony could or would do such a thing. If there was proof that Tony wasn’t anywhere near May on that night, then that could clear his name. 

“Where’s the proof?” Peter asked, his voice breaking. 

Beck’s eyes softened. “I’ll show you witness statements from that night.”

Witness statements? There were people who watched Tony...do it...to May?

Beck stood up from where he had been crouched at Peter’s side and walked over to the laptop. Peter planted his hands on the ground, and braced himself as he forced himself onto his feet. The ground beneath him started to spin, but he managed to stumble back over to Beck’s side. 

Everything was slightly blurry, but by squinting Peter could make out the new file that was on the screen. It looked to be further down in the same report, and he could see jumbled paragraphs next to grainy photos, none of them people he recognized. 

The next few minutes felt as though he were detached from his body. Peter was frozen in place, but his mind was frantically reading the statements, looking for inaccuracies or biases or  _ anything  _ that would prove Tony’s innocence. He felt himself spiraling once again faster and faster the more he read, and after he got to one witness saying that they had “seen Tony Stark walking down the street with blood on his clothes and a crazed look in his eyes,” Peter had to jerk his head away from the screen to prevent himself from slipping into another panic attack. 

“You see, Peter? It’s all right there.”

“I...I still can’t...I-” He felt dizzy, and leaned forward to grip the desk to keep from falling. 

“Look, I don’t want to believe it either,” Beck said, placing a hand on Peter’s shoulder. “If only there was some way that we could know for sure, but May Parker’s apartment complex didn’t have any security cameras based on what I’ve read here.”

“Yeah...too rundown,” Peter gasped, his whole body trembling. 

Beck was silent for a second, and Peter saw his line of vision go to where his mask was tucked away, the top of it poking out. His eyes widened. 

“Wait...wait a second. Don’t you have an AI in your suit?”

“Yeah...Karen...why?” Peter wheezed, his knuckles white from gripping the desk so hard. He stared straight forward to try and focus on not vomiting again. 

“Does it have a camera and recording capability?”   


Peter nodded, looking up at Beck with confusion. 

“Would there be something like that in the Iron Man suit?”

He nodded again, but then shook his head. “Yeah, but the witnesses said that he wasn’t dressed as Iron Man and there was...blood on his clothes, even as high as his gl-”

Peter’s eyes widened. “Holy shit that’s it!”

“What?” Beck asked, furrowing his eyebrows. 

“Tony has a set of glasses that he wears all the time, and they were said to be on him according to the witnesses. And these glasses have recording capabilities!”

“Wait, really?” Beck asked, appearing deep in thought. 

“If we’re able to get into the footage, then we can go back to the night!”   
  
“What if he deleted the footage though?” 

“Oh yeah.” Peter deflated. He glanced again at the computer monitor. “But it could be stored deep in there, but either way, we have to try! I don’t know...I don’t know what I’d do if we didn’t,” he finished, his voice cracking.

“Okay. We can try. Do you think that you can get a hold of his glasses and bring them tomorrow night?” Beck asked, raising an eyebrow. 

Would he be able to steal from a billionaire that had more security than the White House? He wasn’t sure, but he had to try.  _ He had to.  _

“Yes.”

“I’ll send you the address for where we can meet tomorrow,” Beck said. When Peter gave him a confused look, he said, “This place doesn’t have internet access. Everything on this laptop was a photo.”

Peter nodded. He reached out a hand, and Beck clasped it. For some reason, his spidey sense lurched so quickly that he got whiplash, almost stumbling if it weren’t for Beck’s tight hold on his hand. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Peter said, turning to leave. 

“Peter?” Beck called when he was almost to the door.

“What?”

He turned around, and saw a grim look on Beck’s face, with a tinge of sympathy. “I’m sorry. I hope it isn’t true.” 

Peter’s throat felt tight, but he nodded, turning back around quickly so he wouldn’t have another breakdown in front of the other hero. As soon as he was out the door, however, he collapsed, his back sliding down the closed door as he breathed heavily. 

He could do this. He was going to take those glasses and then prove Tony’s innocence. And then this whole mess would be behind them. 

_ But he took May away. He murdered her. _

_ Stop,  _ he thought back, feeling an awful pressure rising in his stomach. 

_ Tony killed May. And you’re protecting him.  _

_ No! There’s no concrete proof he did it,  _ he thought desperately, his fingers finding their way into his hair again. 

But the voice was insistent, throbbing into his skull,  _ And to think you were going to call him Dad.  _

Peter squeezed his eyes shut, pulling at his hair, ripping small pieces out, barely feeling the pain. He didn’t move for a long time. 

***

Peter trudged into the bathroom, leaning heavily against the counter. The trip home had been almost nonexistent, as if his brain had pressed the “skip” button. He was thankful for that, although now, standing in front of his mirror and facing his own appearance, he wished it had been delayed further. 

His cheeks were a little more sunken in than the last time he had bothered to check his reflection. There was a sickly paleness to his skin, as if he were a ghost about to drift away. A poke to his cheek bone confirmed he was still alive despite his zombie-like appearance. There were massive purple bags underneath his eyes, and he had bloodshot and puffy red eyes from crying. He didn’t want to look upwards at his hair, but he forced himself to. 

A small gasp escaped his lips as he gingerly felt around. It seemed as if his entire scalp was bloody, the parts of his hair he hadn’t touched still matted with blood from surrounding areas. There were numerous more bald patches, bigger than they usually were. Any of the growth that the previous bald spots had seen was useless, as the small buzz of hair paled in comparison to the plenty of patches that were around his scalp. If his hat fell off, even a little, there was no way he’d be able to hide them. 

But worse of all was the blood streaked on his skin. Although most of his skin was covered by the Spider-Man suit, the usually bright red hands of the suit were now a rusty stain. He knew that his hands underneath would be stained, as the thin material was not a good guard against liquid. He dared to look down at his suit, where he remembered that he had clutched himself on the chest after pulling out his hair. 

Bile rose to his throat, and he barely managed to make it to the toilet, before he was heaving the acid into the toilet, everything else already out of his system from an hour ago. He dropped to his knees, clutching the toilet seat as he shook, unable to cry again. Because one look down at his suit, streaked with blood, and all he could see was Tony, streaked with Parker blood after he had murdered May. 

_ He didn’t murder her!  _ he thought insistently. 

_ Stop lying to yourself,  _ the voice hissed, creeping back into Peter’s mind. 

_ I’m going to prove that he’s innocent.  _

But the more he thought that, the more like a fantasy it seemed, as the awful feeling in his chest proved to be louder than his thoughts, a feeling so crushing that Peter couldn’t get up. 

_ Tony killed May.  _

He sat on the floor next to the toilet, staring blankly ahead as he tried, and failed, not to think that disgusting and revolting thought for a long time. 

***

“Thank you so much for coming, Bruce,” Tony said, clasping the good hand of his friend. Only a few hours after the text was sent, Bruce had arrived, showing up a few hours after dinner. It was the perfect time when Peter was gone patrolling and Pepper was putting Morgan, so Tony knew that they would get some privacy. 

“It’s no problem, Tony. What’s going on?” he asked, sitting down on the couch, making it jolt for a moment under the heavy weight of the Hulk. Bruce gave Tony a sheepish look, seeming to blush, although Tony wasn’t exactly sure how that would look on Bruce’s green skin. 

Tony took a seat as well in the armchair next to the couch after a bit of struggling. He looked down at the floor, not bothering to put up a bravado with his friend. Similar to Pepper, Bruce could always see through his bullshit. Plus, he had called Bruce here. He wasn’t going to try and make this more difficult than it needed to be. 

“I...I need your opinion on something that’s happening to me,” he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. “I think my PTSD is coming back or something? But I’m scared, Bruce. I’ve been having these...flashbacks? I think that’s what they could be called? And I don’t know why they’re happening, but once I get into one, I can’t be taken out of it easily.”

Bruce adjusted his glasses with his giant hand, before rummaging in the bag he brought for a notepad and pencil, turning to a blank page and scribbling something down. “How long ago did the first flashback happen? I mean, the first one since the end of the blip.”

“Over a month ago? The first one happened at the neurologist’s office.”

“How many more have you had since then?”   


“A few more,” he said, thinking back to them all. He knew he had at least three, but because he hadn’t written them down, he thought that he potentially had more that he was forgetting about. 

Bruce wrote something else down. “Tell me about the first one. Was there a...a trigger that caused it to happen?”

“It...it was when my right shoulder was unbandaged.”

“When you saw the amputation site?”

Tony jerked his head into a nod, not trusting himself to speak of it without something happening. 

“Has looking at it since caused another flashback?”

“When I was talking about it with Pepper, it caused another one. But then a third one happened when I was thinking...when I was thinking about Peter.”

Bruce nodded, his face neutral. “I’m assuming you called me here because you didn’t already talk to a psychiatrist or therapist?”

Tony shrugged and nodded. 

Bruce took off his glasses and rubbed at his eyes with his hand that wasn’t currently in a sling. “Tony, I don’t want to say anything for certain, as psychiatry isn’t obviously one of my areas of expertise, but there is something going on with you.”

“That’s helpful,” Tony mumbled, and shrank slightly at the weary look that Bruce gave him. 

“I don’t want to say that this is your PTSD again, as I don’t want you to take your old meds and hope that it helps, but based on what you’re telling me, it’s a high possibility. My recommendation? Or, my opinion as you put it?”

Tony nodded. 

“You need to see a psychiatrist who can evaluate what’s going on. And I can even refer you to one that specializes in therapy for superheroes. She also helps war veterans, so she has pretty much worked in every area that could involve you.”

Tony opened his mouth to protest, but Bruce held up a hand. “You asked for my help, and that’s what I can do.”

“But...you can’t just give me something to-to make them stop?” Tony asked, and he knew that his voice broke. He knew that there was a panicked look in his eyes. He knew that he looked completely desperate. But he pleaded with Bruce regardless, because  _ he didn’t want them anymore.  _ He wanted them  _ gone. _

Bruce looked at him with pity in his eyes. Tony immediately wanted to punch him. “Medicine can only do so much. To hopefully solve this long-term, Tony, you should really go to therapy.”

“So you’re telling me that to solve this problem I’m having with flashbacks, flashbacks that happen when I’m talking or thinking about something upsetting, I need to go and talk and think about those same upsetting things?”

“Basically.”

Tony opened his mouth to protest further, but Bruce interrupted, “Look, Tony. You don’t have to do what I’m saying. But I’m just trying to help you.”

All the tension and frustration seemed to drain out of him. “I know. And thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Bruce said, giving Tony a genuine smile. 

“Now, Brucie. What would it take for you to come and entertain at Morgan’s next birthday party? You know, since you’re committed to being the Hulk full-time now,” Tony said, his lip twitching to keep from smiling. 

Thankfully, Bruce didn’t seem to question Tony’s obvious subject change. He rolled his eyes, but he let out a laugh and patted Tony on the good shoulder. “Good to see you again, Tony.”

Tony let the smile show. “You too, Brucie.”

After Bruce left, Tony twirled the small business card in his hand. He studied it, as he had been trying not to do since Bruce had handed it to him with a pat on the shoulder before he had closed the door to the apartment behind him, and made a mental note of the name printed, committing it to memory along with the phone number written at the bottom. Then, he tucked it into his pocket, the card feeling like it was burning against his leg. 

“Let’s go upstairs, FRI,” Tony said, hobbling towards the elevator. “To the lab.”

***

“Pepper, are you sure that this is a good idea?” Tony asked nervously as he stared down at the text he just sent. He winced as his phone immediately began going off. “I asked him the other day what he would think about having his friends over, and he seemed apprehensive about it.”

Last week, Tony had casually brought up that Peter could have his friends over whenever, and Peter had just shrugged, avoiding looking Tony in the eye. Tony had frowned and almost asked him what the problem was, but then Morgan had pulled Peter away and off to her room, where he proceeded to hear her giggling for the next hour, meaning Peter was most likely subject to one of her many games.

“He just needs a little bit of a push, Tony. He’s obviously lonely. Peter’s friends are great people. I’m sure that he’ll be happy to see them,” Pepper said, giving him a small smile. “Besides, when have I ever been wrong?”

“Just give me a second and I’m sure I can think of something,” Tony muttered, as a series of “omg” and “this can’t be real” began coming through from Ned’s phone number. He seriously considered blocking him, but instead typed out, “So you can come?” 

He immediately received a very enthusiastic “yes!!!” from the boy, and Tony couldn’t help but crack a smile. He’d always liked Ned. 

MJ’s response was just a “thumbs up” reaction to his original question. That girl was a little creepy, but he knew that Peter really liked her and Pepper seemed to as well, so he could put up with her unavoidable questions about Stark Industries and their connections to pretty much any humanitarian issue ever for Peter’s sake.

It wouldn’t be the first time that Peter had friends over when with Tony. When Peter had turned 16, May had opted to let Tony have the party at the facility upstate, which was a good idea in that it had more space for them to celebrate, but a bad idea in the fact that Ned’s eyes were never once fully in their sockets the entire night. Still, Tony had felt pretty proud of himself for being able to handle the teenagers for the night while May had tried not to laugh at Tony’s stressed out face. 

She had said while laughing, “And this is what parenting can be. A pretty glamorous thing, huh?” May then pointed to the wet spot on the carpet where Tony had cleaned up a spilled soda, and to the crumbs on the couch where they would most likely be permanently embedded. 

Instead of grumbling, he instead just smiled, surprising even himself. “It is.”

She gave him a shocked look, before it melted away into a soft, genuine smile. “Yeah.”

“But what if he isn’t excited to see his friends? What if it upsets him?” Tony asked, taking himself out of the fond memory. 

“Then we’ll deal with that. But you’ve said multiple times that you’re not sure if Peter is being himself. So shouldn’t we take this risk? Maybe seeing his friends is what he needs.”

“Okay. Okay. It’ll all be okay,” he murmured, glancing at the empty coffee mug in front of him and seriously considering refilling it. Pepper saw this from across the table and gave him a pointed look. 

“Yes it will. So what time are they coming tonight?”

“6:00. How are we supposed to keep Peter here? On Fridays he usually starts patrol at like 4:00.”

“It won’t be hard. We just have to ask him to stay for supper tonight. Tell him that we have something special planned.”

Tony gave Pepper a wary look. “Are you sure that won’t scare him off?”

“Teenagers love surprises,” Pepper said, giving Tony’s hand a squeeze. 

Tony smiled at her, pushing away the conversation that he needed to have with her at some point about what Bruce had talked to him about last night.  _ Tomorrow _ , he decided.  _ Just get through tonight and then tell her tomorrow.  _

Tiny footsteps pattered, the sound getting louder, and Tony knew that Morgan was awake. He glanced over at the kitchen clock. She had slept in late, all the way to 7:30. He was impressed with Rhodey’s ability to tire her out, although he would never tell him that. 

His heart beat faster in anticipation of the teenager who would soon be making an appearance. Peter was hardly ever in his room past 7:45, when he would come out and eat breakfast before giving in to Morgan’s insistence that he play with her, something she did every morning without fail. 

But as the minutes went by, the time getting further and further past that golden 7:45 and Peter still hadn’t made an appearance, Tony started to worry. He kept himself occupied by doing the dishes after Morgan ate, doing his physical therapy exercises, and even reading over a few Stark Industries papers that Pepper needed him to sign that were most likely due a few days ago. 

Once the time approached 9:00, with still no sign of Peter, Tony felt the anxiety hit a little deeper in his chest, thrumming like a nervous fluttering bird. 

“FRIDAY? Where’s Peter?”

“Peter is in his room.”

Some of the anxiety loosened its grip, but Tony still felt a little unease. His kid hadn’t done this for a while. Should he go and wake him up? What if he just needed his sleep? Tony knew that he had gotten back from patrolling right at curfew. 

He almost was going to ask what Peter was doing, but at that moment Morgan came running into the room, holding up a picture that she had colored, and the thought vanished from his mind. 

***

Peter’s mouth tasted like metal. He wasn’t exactly looking at the most appealing thing, as the floor of his bathroom wasn’t the cleanest, but the cool tile floor was a better option than attempting to get up, as he didn’t want to feel that awful dizziness. Plus, from down here, he could almost imagine that he didn’t just learn that his father-figure possibly murdered the only family he had left. He didn’t need to think about how he was going to steal those glasses. And he could ignore that churning feeling in his stomach and that pressing feeling on his chest and just stare at the side of the bathtub, making his mind completely blank.

He glanced down at his bare chest and stomach, at the lean muscles there, but also at the ribs protruding from his abdomen. Sometime after collapsing next to the toilet last night, he had found a final burst of energy to remove the suit as fast as he could, throwing it on the ground haphazardly. If he concentrated, he could see the edge of the suit in the corner of his peripheral vision. 

“FRIDAY?” he croaked, his voice thick with disuse.

“Yes, Peter?” 

“Is there a way to clean my suit?”

The AI was silent for a moment. Peter thought he had stumped her, but she just replied, “If you take it to the laundry room, I can instruct you how to clean it there.”

Peter nodded, before remembering he was talking to a computer. “Okay.”

He placed his hands on the floor, and pushed up, nearly falling back over from how weak his arms were. With gritted teeth he pushed himself all the way up, and finally rose to his feet, only stumbling slightly. After making his way to his dresser, he pulled on the first clothes he could find (some shirt with a chemistry pun, jeans and his beanie) and then grabbed his suit off the ground, decidedly not looking at it. 

Thirty minutes and a clean suit later, Peter put his suit back into his room and collapsed on the bed. He stared blankly at the ceiling. He knew he was weak from hunger, but if he went downstairs, he would have to face Tony. And he couldn’t do that. At some point, he was going to have to make an appearance to figure out where those glasses were, but that could be put off a little longer. For now, cleaning his suit took all the energy he had at the moment. So he laid on the bed, and didn’t move for a long time. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: panic attack, vomiting, hair-pulling, mentions of PTSD
> 
> I think this was my longest chapter yet (over 4,000 words!) and my story is over 60,000 words!! That's crazy:)
> 
> Stay with me, folks! I promise the excitement from the beginning of this chapter will return in chapter 26 - I had to set up a bunch of things for that chapter at the end of this one so that the next one doesn't have to be so much set-up. I didn't want to cut off this chapter where I did, but I wanted to get this out there more than that, so this is kinda like part one. I can't wait to show you what's coming next;) Please leave a comment letting me know what you think and kudos if you'd like, and I'll see you all soon...


	26. Innocence: Part 2

“Pep, they’re gonna be here soon. Shouldn’t we go and tell Peter that they’re coming? He hasn’t been down all day.”

Tony tapped his fingers on his leg, glancing up at the clock every few seconds as the hands slowly approached 6:00.

“I told him earlier to stick around for supper tonight when I was bringing up lunch to him, but he just said ‘okay.’ I think it’ll be a nice surprise.”

“It doesn’t worry you that he spent the entire day in his room?”   


“Not really. He’s a teenager, Tony,” Pepper said, setting down the cups that she had been carrying from the kitchen on the coffee table. There was already a spread of food and drinks, with two boxes of pizza in the center, the third box in the kitchen for the Starks so they wouldn’t bother the teenagers. “He’s been pretty busy the past few days with patrolling. He might just need a day to relax.”

“You’re right,” Tony said, his eyes still on the clock. And he knew that Peter had in fact stayed in his room the whole day, as whenever Pepper was out of sight, he would quietly ask FRIDAY where Peter was, and her answer still hadn’t changed. 

The doorbell rang. Tony looked over at Pepper, who gestured for him to get it. “I’ll go and grab Peter,” she said, heading towards the elevator. Tony rolled his eyes. Of course he had to be the one who greeted them. 

He took a deep breath. This would be the first time that he had really seen anyone except for his family or the doctors, and the first time that he had seen Peter’s friends as the person legally responsible for Peter. He could already picture the girl MJ asking him a billion questions to make sure he was serious about his role as Peter’s d-guardian. 

_ You’re not his dad, not yet,  _ he reminded himself. Tony glanced down at his pocket, where the folded papers were, already signed. Although it caused his lawyers to have a fit, he knew it was worth it. If today went well, maybe he could finally work up the courage to ask Peter. 

The doorbell rang again. After steeling himself, he opened the door with a somewhat pleasant look on his face. 

“Hey guys, thanks for coming,” he said, and he could see Ned’s entire face light up as Tony stepped out of the way. 

“Oh my god Mr. Stark! Is this where you guys are living now? I can’t believe you guys are back in the city! Does this mean that the Avengers are gonna come and live here too? Is this the new Avengers’ tower? What about the compound upstate? Is that gonna be rebuilt?”   


Tony cracked a smile. Ned looked so flabbergasted with a sort of enthusiastic wonder that Tony hadn’t seen in a long time. 

_ Peter used to be like that, _ he thought with a pang. Maybe one day Peter would get that excited again. Currently, the only times he would show an ounce of excitement was working in the lab, but it was a very mellowed out version of the usually very energetic Peter that Tony knew before the blip. 

MJ on the other hand, had the same vague, unimpressed look on her face that she always did, and Tony could practically see the criticism dripping off her expression as she looked around the room. 

“Stark,” she said, nodding to him. 

“Jones,” he replied, giving her the same nod. 

She didn’t say anything further as she walked in the room, Ned still firing off questions non-stop as he walked after her. Tony could’ve celebrated right then. That was the kindest that MJ had ever been to him. The fact that she had waited at least a few minutes to start grilling him about pretty much  _ everything  _ meant that maybe she was starting to like him? 

Tony wanted to pinch himself. Ten years ago, he would’ve never thought that getting a teenager to like him was a priority, but here he was, worrying about every little thing that Peter’s friends would say.  _ I’m pathetic,  _ he thought with a smile. 

“Peter will be down in a second. Go ahead and hang out on the couch, make yourselves at home,” he said, and thankfully both teengagers took a seat on the couch and began to talk to each other in low voices. He caught the words “decathlon” and “school trip,” and he decided that he was fine being left out of the loop. 

Tony stood off to the side, leaning heavily against his walker, as he watched the elevator with laser focus. Peter was going to come out of those doors at any minute. He felt the same unease that he’d been feeling all day in the pit of his stomach, but pushed it aside. 

_ You’re being ridiculous,  _ he told himself.  _ Of course he’s going to like seeing his friends. There’s nothing to worry about. _

But despite his insistence to himself, the small pit still didn’t go away, as if it were waiting around for Peter’s reaction to decide for itself. 

There was a ding. Finally, Pepper stepped out of the elevator, Peter following with a wary look on his face. As he stepped out and saw Tony standing there, Peter’s expression changed. His face paled and his eyes widened, but before Tony could say anything, Peter looked away and out into the living room. He wished he could say that Peter’s expression changed when he saw his friends, but if it were possible, Peter’s face got even whiter and his mouth dropped open slightly. 

“Dude!” Ned yelled, immediately standing and rushing towards Peter. Tony thought that Peter would maybe go forward to meet him, but he stood frozen in place, looking like a deer in headlights. 

MJ leisurely made her way over, as if she were trying to maintain her aloof state. But Tony recognized the look that came to her eyes even if she tried to hide it. As soon as she caught sight of Peter, worry came to her face. She smoothed it over, but Tony felt her eyes on him, boring into his head as she walked closer and up to Peter. 

Peter was currently being hugged by Ned, but his arms remained glued to his sides. Tony held his breath as Peter’s arms slowly came up and wrapped around his friend, and he felt relief cause that pit in his stomach to melt away. Once Ned released him, MJ gently punched Peter in the arm, and said, “Hey loser.”

“Hey guys,” Peter said quietly, and a small smile came to his face. He was led over to the couch, where he sat in between his two friends as they began speaking to him, Ned excitedly, and MJ giving a sarcastic comment every once in a while. And slowly, as Tony left the room and stayed in the kitchen, Peter began to relax, still holding a little tension in him, but from across the room Tony could see the light that was finally back in his eyes.

An hour had passed, where Tony had remained in the kitchen with Pepper and Morgan, enjoying their own pizza accompanied by the soft voices of the teenagers in the other room. Pepper had just taken Morgan for her bath, and Tony had begun to clean up, when he heard the sound of someone’s throat clearing.

Standing at the entrance to the kitchen was MJ. She looked over her shoulder, before quickly closing the door behind her. 

Tony began to speak, to ask her if she needed anything, but MJ was quick to start talking. “Okay, I told them that I was going to interrogate you about Stark Industries’ use of renewable energy, so I have a few minutes. But I need to talk to you.”   


Tony hobbled over to one of the chairs and took a seat, motioning for her to do the same. She gave him a distrustful look, but still took a seat.

“There’s something wrong with Peter. He doesn’t look well. Have you guys even been feeding him? And although he’s talking enough for Ned not to get suspicious, he’s a lot more closed off than usual.”

Tony sighed and rubbed his face with his hand. “I know.”

She gave him an incredulous look. “And you’re doing nothing about it?”   


“I am doing something about it!” he snapped. MJ raised her eyebrow at him, and he sighed before lowering his voice again. “Sorry. Look, I know that he doesn’t look well. And Pepper and I have been doing the best we can. We give him food, but he still looks like he’s starving. He’s been a great older brother to Morgan, always playing with her, but he’s not the same. He doesn’t have the same-”

“The same excitement?” MJ finished, crossing her arms across her chest. 

“Exactly. And I’ve been doing research and have been in contact with people who know more about teenagers and loss than I do, but I need Peter to trust that I’m not going to send him somewhere he doesn’t want to go.”   


“Like away?” MJ had a murderous look in her eyes.

“No! Like therapy. Or to talk to someone about losing his aunt.”

“Have you even tried to talk to him about going?”

“Not yet.”

“What’s stopping you?” 

“I’m waiting on a response from someone at Yale,” he said, looking MJ directly in the eyes, “but they haven’t responded yet. I want their advice first before I try and force Peter to do anything.”

Slowly, the apprehensive look dissolved off MJ’s face. And Tony saw a weariness and concern come to her expression that was so unlike her, that he almost poked her to see if it was really MJ sitting next to him. “So you’re trying to help him?”

“I really am, Jones. And I was hoping that tonight would help too. I think he missed you and Ned.”

She gave him a quick half-smile, before it turned back into her usual bored expression. “Well okay, Stark.”

And with that, she turned and walked out of the kitchen and back to the couch, where Tony was sure she was telling Peter and Ned about how Stark Industries was killing the environment.

_ She’s not so bad,  _ he thought.  _ At least there’s someone else looking out for him.  _

***

Peter glanced at the clock above the fireplace.  _ 7:45.  _ He quickly turned back to Ned, who was talking about a new show that he was watching.

When Pepper had retrieved him from his room, he had followed her down in the elevator, suspicious of what the surprise could be. What he didn’t expect was his two best friends, sitting on the couch together. It definitely distracted him for a while from his task tonight, that’s for sure. 

He didn’t want to leave them, but as the time got closer and closer to 9:00, when he was supposed to meet Beck, he found himself looking for an opening to leave. It seemed as if the voice was wrong about them. They didn’t seem angry at him, and it was actually...nice to talk to them again. But he had to go. Because the one thought that hadn't left all night, was the knowledge that Tony could’ve killed May. Until he proved Tony’s innocence, that had to be his top priority. 

“Hey guys, I’ve got to use the bathroom and grab something from my room,” he said, standing up. 

Ned just shrugged and said, “Okay,” but MJ looked at him carefully. For a moment, he thought she was going to try and stop him, but she instead just shrugged and turned back to Ned to resume their conversation.

He had made his escape. Peter made his way to the elevator, careful not to move too quickly, and pressed the button for the third floor. Tony often left his glasses somewhere in the lab, so that was a good place to start. 

His hands shook at his sides as he stepped off the elevator. He was so nervous that earlier he had eaten a piece of pizza, just for something to do. But he was beginning to regret that now as his stomach churned while quickly searching the lab. Time wasn’t going to be on his side, as he knew that Tony could be up here at any second. Tony would often come up here to fiddle around after supper, so Peter had to be quick.

After scanning the lab tables, Peter made his way over to the different desks and computer monitors.  _ There!  _ Over at the desk Tony often used, with a few empty coffee mugs in the back, a few drawings that Morgan had made hanging on the sides, and papers strewn about it, he spotted them. 

Peter grabbed them, and was about to leave the room and figure out a way to tell his friends that he  _ needed  _ to go patrol, a notification on the computer screen popped up. His eyebrows furrowed as he saw an email from a Dr. Williams with an icon with the Yale emblem. He bit his lip. Why was Tony talking to someone from Yale? He hesitantly clicked. 

_ Mr. Stark,  _

_ I’d like to first apologize for my delayed reply - I was out on a humanitarian trip without internet access for the past few weeks. Based on the email that you sent me last month, I would say that you are doing your best to help this unnamed kid that you speak of. By reaching out to me and doing your own personal research, you’re taking steps in the right direction to help this young man.  _

_ I would recommend that you think about speaking to him about therapy. A death of a family member is very difficult, and can often require some serious emotional help. As for being a superhero? I would imagine that comes with its own traumas, and would recommend doing further research on  _ _ teenage trauma _ _ as well as  _ _ coping after a traumatic event. _ _ Let me know if you need more resources, or you can always give me a call at (203)-344-4491.  _

_ You both will get through this. Best of luck to you during this trying time.  _

_ Best regards, _

_ Dr. Jacob Williams _

_ Professor of Psychology at Yale University _

_ jawilliams@yale.edu _

His fingers shook as he clicked on the tabs open on Tony’s computer. Instantly, he was bombarded with twenty different sites, all about dealing with a teenager who’s gone through a traumatic event or lost someone in their life. 

The page that it took him to first had a passage that glared at him through the computer screen:

_ Fostering a child with a traumatic past can be a difficult process. If at any point you don’t feel as if you are providing the child with all the resources they need to thrive, it’s okay to talk to the child’s social worker about finding the child another home.  _

Air wasn’t getting into his lungs. He felt as if he were suffocating, black spots dancing across his vision as he stood up, haphazardly knocking off a stack of papers off the desk. Tony knew. He knew that there was something up with him. And it would only be a matter of time before he discovered the truth. 

_ If Tony finds out, then you’re gone. Look at what he was reading, he’s already thinking about getting rid of you. He doesn’t want you.  _

At the same time, a different voice hissed,  _ He murdered her. He killed May. You shouldn’t want to live with him. You’re disgusting. May didn’t ever matter to you, did she? _

Both voices were throbbing in his head, feeling like they were going to split his skull apart. He gripped at his head, tears flowing down his face. He ran back to the elevator, but as he went to press the button to open it, the elevator doors opened. Standing there, leaning against his walker with a confused look in his eyes, was Tony.

Immediately, a surge of fear and anger rose inside him, but he bit his lip and forced it down, attempting to move past Tony towards the elevator. But he was blocking the exit. 

“Kid? What’s going on? Why are you up here?”

Tony didn’t seem to notice the glasses in Peter’s hand, so Peter discreetly held them behind his leg so Tony wouldn’t see them. 

In his mind, there was a screaming match between two voices, one of them screaming,  _ He knows! He’s going to kick you out!  _ while the other one shrieked,  _ He killed May! He murdered her! Her blood is on his hands!  _

Peter gripped his head and squeezed his eyes shut, shrieking, “Shut up!”

Tony looked taken aback, and he began to move towards Peter, sending his stomach into a swirling and churning sea. “Kid, what are you talking about? Are you-” 

Peter saw his chance. On the other side of the elevator were stairs for emergency use, and he sprinted over to them, charging down to his room, almost ripping the doorknob off in his efforts to get inside. He slammed and locked the door behind him. 

He began to put on the suit, yanking on the mask so hard that it got stuck on his mouth. He pulled it down all the way, and threw open the window to his room, grabbing his backpack that contained his clothes and Tony’s glasses and slinging it on his back.

“Peter, you’re not supposed to exit-” Karen said, her voice sounding concerned.

“I know, just help me make this jump!” he yelled, already aiming his wrist, his hand shaking. 

“Peter, maybe you should just-”

He pulled off the mask, clutching it in his left hand as he aimed blindly out towards the nearest building. Somehow, he managed to make the jump, but he stumbled and fell to the ground. Pain shot through his right ankle, and he swore under his breath. Peter looked down, and saw that it was twisted unnaturally, the sight almost causing him to pass out. With gritted teeth, he struggled to his feet, his ankle screaming at him. After waiting a moment for the pain to lessen, he pulled the mask back on as he took a deep breath, putting all his weight on his left foot.

“Take me to the address Beck sent,” he said shakily, feeling his eyes drip tears down his face beneath the mask.

“Peter-”

“Please.” His voice broke as he whispered to his AI. 

Relief flooded through him as Karen began to instruct him on where to swing. He glanced back at the open window to his room at the building next door. Steeling himself, he shot a web out, taking him to Beck.

***

Tony glanced at the open door to the stairs, his mouth open in shock. What happened? Things had been going well with Peter’s friends. Tony had just wanted to come up and tinker for a bit to keep himself from hovering over the teenagers, but upon the elevator doors opening, he saw Peter staring back at him. 

He had never seen the kid so...so hysterical. Peter’s face before he registered it was Tony was already a complete wreck, his eyes wide and crazed, but once he realized that Tony was standing there, a look of horror with so much...anger and fear came onto his face. Then, when Tony had been about to ask what was wrong, Peter had yelled at him to shut up, although it didn’t seem like he was talking to him (but who else would Peter be talking to? Tony was the only other person in the room). Peter had then sprinted out of there so fast that Tony was literally and metaphorically left in the dust. 

Tony wasn’t sure what he had done to warrant such a reaction, but it didn’t leave him with a good feeling. He glanced around the lab, and then made his way to the elevator, taking it down to the second floor. 

As he suspected, Peter’s door was shut and locked. Tony leaned into his walker and knocked. 

“Peter? Kid? Are you okay?”

He didn’t hear anything and frowned. A small part of him hoped that maybe Peter had gone to his friends for comfort about whatever the problem was, although it seemed pretty unlikely. Either way, maybe Ned and MJ knew what was going on.

Tony was about to go back into the elevator, but frowned at the locked door again. He knocked again. “Kid? If you’re in there, I’m coming in.”

“FRIDAY, unlock the door,” he said. He heard the lock click and was able to swing the door open. A quick glance around the room made his heart sink. Peter wasn’t in the room. And the window was left open. Tony made his way over to the open window as fast as possible, and his heart dropped further. He could see the thin webs attached to the next building. Thankfully, there was nothing to indicate that Peter hadn’t made the jump, which meant that he was on the move. 

“FRI? Get Pepper, Ned, and MJ up here now.”

He stood staring at the open window with a blank look on his face as the others soon joined him. He felt a hand on his shoulder and caught a whiff of her lavender perfume. Pepper was there. 

“Tony-” 

“He’s gone,” he said, staring blankly out of the window. “He left.”

The room was deathly silent, the only sounds coming from the evening New York traffic through the open window.

Then, MJ burst out, “I swear Stark, if you’re playing some sort of-”

“I’m serious,” he said, turning and looking at them. 

“Are you sure that he’s not somewhere else in the house? Maybe he was shooting webs out the window again,” Pepper said, and Tony felt instant relief at his wife’s presence. And he instantly wanted to smack his head with a door because of his own stupidity. Maybe Peter was just hiding.

He took a deep breath, pushing down the panic for now. “FRIDAY, where is Peter?”

“Peter is…” FRIDAY was silent for a moment. “Peter’s suit is at the location of 345 23rd St.”

“Is Peter not in the suit?”   


“No boss.”

“Where’s his cell phone? Can you track that?”

“Same location, boss.”

He felt the panic set hold, ice cold run through his veins. “Pull up Peter’s AI.’”

The holographic visuals of Peter’s suit pulled up, tinging the wall’s of Peter’s bedroom with a blue light as FRIDAY projected. He heard a small gasp (likely from Ned), but ignored it. Sure enough, there was no indication that Peter was wearing it, and Karen was powered off. She was automatically on whenever Peter had the suit on. He was about to tell FRIDAY to clear it away, but then noticed a red triangle at the bottom of the screen. 

“Hold on a second. FRIDAY, put Karen through.”

“Hello, Mr. Stark.” Karen’s voice didn’t sound nearly as friendly as it usually did. 

“What’s this warning? It’s registered from last night?” he said, squinting at the small font, before zooming in. 

“Peter was in severe mental distress last night. He was also in mental distress again as well as had a physical injury about ten minutes ago.”

"He got hurt? How?"

"Peter stumbled on a jump and likely broke his ankle."

“And why was I not alerted?”

She paused. “At that time you had FRIDAY set to silent.”

_ Shit.  _

“You turned FRIDAY off?” MJ asked, glaring at him. 

“Not off, silent,” but his defense of himself felt pretty pathetic. 

“I can’t believe-” MJ was interrupted by Pepper giving her a look. They seemed to silently communicate for a moment, before MJ nodded, glowering, but at least not outright reprimanding Tony. 

Pepper’s eyes were on him. He was barely keeping it together, all the worst case scenarios automatically coming to mind:  _ Peter had run away and would never come back, Peter could be in danger and Tony wouldn’t know where to find him, Peter already was hurt, Peter- _

“Tony, it’s going to be okay. We’ll find him,” Pepper said, putting her hand on his face gently. He hadn’t realized that he had been hyperventilating. He tried to take slower breaths. 

“I...I don’t know-” he tried to say, but what finished was a hiccuping sound, but he was too worked up to be embarrassed. 

“It’s okay. He just ran off. There’s nothing telling us that he’s in danger,” Pepper said, removing her hand from his face and rubbing his left shoulder soothingly. 

_ You’re being ridiculous,  _ he thought to himself. Peter was going to be okay. He took a deep breath. “Okay. MJ and Ned? I want you to stay in here with Pepper and look for any clues in here about where he might’ve gone.”

“What are you going to do?” Ned asked, his face worried.

“I’m going to sweep the city’s security cameras for any sign of him, and then if that doesn’t work, watch every bit of footage from Karen until I find something, anything,” he said, already walking over to the door. 

“Tony?” Pepper’s voice called out to him.

He turned from where he had just reached the door. “Yes?”

“We’ll find him,” she said, with determination in her voice, a determination mirrored on Ned and MJs' faces. He nodded, and then walked out the door of Peter's room. He was going to find his kid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I should be able to get the next chapter out in about two days or so, but I also have a super busy day tomorrow so be patient with me! Leave a comment letting me know what you think, and kudos if you'd like:)


	27. Identity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please check the end for TW!

He finally made it up to the lab, feeling a little breathless. Taking a seat at his computer, he frowned as he noticed that there was a new email from the professor at Yale and that it had already been opened. His eyes widened as he realized that Peter may have been the one to see it. Also concerning was the fact that there was a tab open on his computer, although he knew that he had minimized them.

 _Later,_ he thought to himself. He would cross that bridge after Peter was home.

“Okay, FRI. First scan traffic and security cameras in New York City; we want anything that might show where Peter is. Pull up the baby monitor footage from Peter’s AI, and let’s start on the week of his mission with Fury. And go ahead and skip forward until you see Fury on the screen,” he said, rubbing his face. He had a feeling that there might be a clue starting there, as he had first noticed Peter’s odd behavior the night he came home from the bar. And Tony practically knew for a fact that there was no way that the night of the fight was the first time that Peter had met with Fury. It was now a matter of finding out when that first meeting was.

It wasn’t long before FRIDAY had stopped on a clip where it appeared Peter was helping someone change a tire. Tony waited, as he knew she was good enough not to make that mistake. Sure enough, after a few minutes, a man in a black coat and signature black eyepatch stepped out of the car, glaring down at Peter.

“That son of a-” Tony growled as he watched Fury reprimand his kid for not responding to his messages. _He’s not well enough for this!_ Tony wanted to scream at Fury, but then it hit him like a ton of bricks. Tony had been the one to let Peter go out as Spider-Man in the first place. And even when he had suspected that there might be something Peter was hiding, he still didn’t stop him.

He didn’t want to take away the suit for fear that it might make things worse. But letting Peter go out and patrol may have been what caused all this.

 _You failed him,_ he thought to himself. _But you can still fix this._

With that, he gritted his teeth and watched the next interaction between Fury and Peter, the next night. Tony’s eyes narrowed as the man in a superhero suit, “Mysterio” as Peter called him, was introduced. There was something familiar about him, but the name “Quentin Beck” didn’t ring a bell.

“FRI, can you do a search for a Quentin Beck? He would’ve arrived in New York a little over a month ago.”

He waited for her response, continuing to watch as Peter was geeking out at the possibility of a “multiverse.” While Tony had to admit that the concept was intriguing, he didn’t buy the bullshit this Beck guy was spewing. Everything sounded too…scripted, rehearsed. Like he was telling Peter and Fury’s crew what they wanted to hear.

“There’s no record of a Quentin Beck matching his appearance.”

“Do a facial rec scan,” Tony said, rubbing his face, continuing to watch as the meeting finished. “And play whenever Peter talks to this ‘Mysterio’ again next.”

Peter was obviously sitting up high, as Tony could see the tops of nearby buildings from this height. Next to him sat Mysterio, and from the date at the bottom of the screen, it would’ve been shortly before the fire elemental attacked.

His heart clenched as Peter talked about May. Was he overreacting with his suspicions about Beck? Because the guy was doing a pretty good job at consoling Peter. Maybe the databases just hadn’t been updated in the past month.

Then, his attention was drawn back to the screen by Peter saying, “ _He’s like a dad to me.”_

Tony immediately said, “FRI, rewind ten seconds.”

The video went back, and sure enough, Peter was talking about him. Something swelled inside his chest, and he grinned stupidly at the screen for a moment, when the video was paused.

“FRIDAY, what-”

“Boss, I found something.”

The warm feeling was gone, replaced by thick anxiety filling his chest. His eyes widened as a hologram filled the lab, a profile for a man named “Francis Klum,” who had the same appearance as the so called “Quentin Beck.”

“Francis Klum was an employee at Stark Industries,” FRIDAY began, every word shoving ice deeper and deeper into his veins. “He was the leading-“

“…designer for the holographic system BARF, right?” Tony finished.

“Whom you fired shortly after its completion,” FRIDAY said.

“Only because he was unstable,” Tony murmured, his eyes darting across the photos FRIDAY pulled up from the convention. Klum had flipped out on a HR representative after learning of Tony’s rebranding of the system. After that, Klum had immediately received a pink slip.

“Before coming to work at Stark Industries, Francis Klum worked in pharmaceuticals, before developing Binarily Augmented Retro-Framing.”

“Why would a pharmacist change careers like that?” Tony asked, half to himself as he frowned at the image of Klum in a white lab coat, smiling at the camera.

Surprisingly, FRIDAY seemed to have an answer. “After the death of his cousin, Maguire Beck who was also a pharmacist, whom Klum was very close to, he changed his career.”

Tony shook his head. “We’re getting off track. FRIDAY, skip forward in Karen’s footage in the bar. His mask was on, correct?”

Instead of answering, Tony was greeted by the video feed being pulled back up, and sure enough, Peter was in the bar with Klum. Klum asked him about his life, but nothing was mentioned on Klum’s end that could be an indication of why he would go with another name and fake being a superhero. But at the very end, Peter gave the older man his phone number.

So Peter was in contact with this guy, or at the very least had a direct way of talking to him that didn’t mean going through Fury.

 _Shit._ Who knew how long Peter had been meeting with this guy behind Tony’s back?

 _There’s no proof that Klum is up to something,_ a part of him said. _He could’ve just wanted fame after you fired him. People want to be superheroes all the time._

He tried to relax as FRIDAY skipped over a month of footage. Maybe this meant this was the end of their interaction together. Tony would give anything if the next tape was Fury chewing Peter out.

Oddly enough, the next tape was just Peter swinging, but the date told him that it was a few hours after Peter had that huge nightmare. Last night.

“FRIDAY, what-”

“Karen said that this was important,” FRIDAY interrupted, and Tony closed his mouth. He didn’t want to anger Peter’s AI further. She was most likely furious with him as it was for not seeing the warnings she put out.

Still, his eyebrows furrowed further as Peter stopped in front of a warehouse, before the footage cut to black.

“FRIDAY, put Karen through. I don’t understand.”

“This was about thirty minutes before I sent the warning,” Karen said a little harshly.

“Karen, do you know why he went to that warehouse?”

“Peter asked me to direct him to an address,” she replied, sounding unsure.

“Where did he get that address?” Tony asked, a heavy pressure on his chest.

Karen was silent, before a new video played on the screen. The date in the corner was from today. A chill ran through Tony’s spine as he realized that this had to have been when Peter ran off.

He was silent, on the edge of his seat as he heard Peter breathing heavily. Peter opened the window, and then screen went black after Karen refused to help him make the jump. Then, the footage resumed and Tony listened as Karen began giving Peter instructions about where to go.

He felt hope spark in him for the first time. “Karen, do you have the address that Klum sent Peter today?”

“Yes.”

“And FRIDAY, do you have anything different from security cameras or traffic cameras?”

“No boss. A camera showed him heading in that direction as Spider-Man before he discarded the suit.”

“Then tell Pepper to suit up. We need to leave.”

***

Peter’s entire body shook as he walked into the open door of the warehouse garage that Beck had sent him the address of. Like the previous one, it seemed abandoned, but it was in better condition. It was on a busier street, with cars driving by every minute or so.

The pain in his ankle throbbed, but it also helped him focus. His bare arms prickled with the wind, cold for a summer night. It felt as if someone was watching him, and his spidey sense screamed at him to turn back around, to leave the warehouse and go back home. But he steeled himself and called out into the darkness, “Beck? I’m here.”

Immediately, Beck’s voice responded. “Good. Let me get some lights on in here.”

The room flooded with intense overhead lights, and Peter squinted, momentarily blinded from the harsh contrast. When he was able to focus his vision again, he saw Beck standing about ten feet away, a grim look on his face. There were numerous desks here as well; the desk that Beck was standing next to with the same idling computer as last time.

“Do you have the glasses?” Beck asked as Peter approached slowly, each step agonizing.

“Yeah, right here.” Peter held them up. A glint flashed through Beck’s eyes, vanishing almost immediately. Peter must have been imagining it.

Beck held out his hand, and Peter hesitantly handed the glasses over, his spidey sense shrieking at him not to give them away. For a moment, Beck’s hand grazed his as Peter’s fingers slipped away from the glasses. He let out an involuntary shiver, as if there was ice crawling down his spine.

“Okay,” Beck started, moving his fingers across the keyboard. “These glasses must connect to Bluetooth or something, right?”

Peter shrugged, his stomach churning faster and faster with every second.

“Ah, found them,” Beck said, and blue light came to the glasses as they turned on. “But I don’t know if I can access the videos, Peter.”

Panic set in, its hold on him fast and strong. If Beck couldn’t access the videos, then how was he supposed to ever trust Tony? How was he supposed to move past this? He would never be able to outright ask Tony about…May, and if this was all a misunderstanding, getting the police involved might mean never seeing Tony again. The voices were back, screaming at him from each side of his skull.

“What? Why?” he managed to ask, his head pounding.

“It says I don’t have administrative access,” Beck said, squinting at the computer screen.

“Who does?”

“Give me a second,” Beck said, typing for a moment. “It looks like: Tony Stark, Pepper Potts…and you, Peter.”

“I…I do?” A small feeling fluttered in his chest, although it was quickly squashed by the realization that Peter would have to be the one to watch the tape. His heart raced. He couldn’t watch those tapes. He couldn’t do that. If Tony really had killed-

“There has to be another way,” he choked, panic constricting his throat.

“Is there a way for you to grant it to me?” Beck asked, his eyebrows furrowing. “Then you don’t have to watch them.”

“I-I don’t-”

“What if you tried putting them on?” Beck asked, handing them to Peter.

Peter slipped them on, and a soft female voice filled his ears. “Hello, Peter. I’m EDITH.”

“Um…hi-hi EDITH,” he said, trying to keep his voice steady. “Is there…is there a way for me to transfer control over to someone who doesn’t have administrative access?”

“You can transfer your control over to the other person,” EDITH replied.

“Okay. I’d like to transfer your control over to Mysterio.”

“Any transfer will require confirmation.”

“Confirmed,” Peter said, thrusting the glasses in Beck’s direction.

Something flashed quickly across Beck’s face as he slipped on the glasses, and Peter heard EDITH’s soft voice say, “Hello, Mysterio.”

“My name is Francis Klum,” Beck said, a grotesque smile breaking out across his face, reminding Peter vaguely of a jack-o-lantern.

“Francis?” Peter asked, his mouth dry. “Beck, what are you-”

His eyes widened as Mysterio’s helmet came up. The air suddenly smelled different, sickly sweet. Too late, Peter squeezed his palms over his mouth as he began coughing. Then, everything faded to black.

***

Tony glanced up at the warehouse, his helmet retracting. It didn’t seem like the kind of place for a secret lair, if Klum was actually a supervillain. For all he knew, he could just be some sort of wannabe-superhero.

He took an unsteady step forward, his legs not used to the new weight of the suit, no matter how light he tried making it. Thankfully, Pepper was there to steady him, her armored hand pressing lighting against his chest. For the millionth time, he considered how much of a badass his wife was. And he silently thanked Ned and MJ for staying back to watch Morgan, so he didn’t have to try and find his kid alone.

“Careful, Tony,” Pepper said, her helmet also retracting. She bit her lip as she followed his gaze upwards. “We don’t know what we’re dealing with here.”

He nodded and continued to walk forward, until he was at the closed garage door. Pepper followed behind, and said, “That’s not necessary” as Tony raised his arm to blast a hole through it. She motioned at the ground, and Tony saw that the door wasn’t fully shut.

“You’re right,” he said sighing as he and Pepper together lifted the door. “Although my way would’ve been a lot more fun.”

Pepper rolled her eyes and stepped into the garage, her helmet coming back up. Tony’s did the same.

“Why’d you do that, FRI?” he asked, turning on his left hand’s flashlight. He glanced down at his right side, at the odd sight of the Iron Man suit without a right arm, but it was a necessary change that he had made a few days ago. The nano tech wouldn’t have gotten his suit-up right if he hadn’t changed his measurements.

“I detect high levels of nitrous oxide and sevoflurane.” Tony felt his breath get knocked out of him.

“What do those do?” Pepper’s voice had a slight waver to it.

“They’re anesthetic gases. They put you to sleep,” Tony said, his voice breaking.

“Why would they…” Pepper started, but her voice trailed of.

Tony followed her sight line as she picked up something off the ground. It was a black beanie. The same one that Peter always seemed to wear.

The blood drained out of his face. His chest felt constricted. He couldn’t breathe.

“FRIDAY?” he heard Pepper say, although her voice sounded muddled. “Scan this place for any people.”

“The only people here are you and Mr. Stark,” FRIDAY replied after a second.

“No,” Tony murmured. “He has to be here.”

His breathing was rapid. He knew he was losing it, but he couldn’t make his breathing slow down, not when his kid was gone. Not when his kid was here and then there was sleeping gas used and now-

“Tony, it’s gonna be okay,” Pepper whispered, although Tony knew that she was trying to convince herself of the same thing. “We’ll find him. They couldn’t have gotten far.”

“My kid is gone!” Tony yelled, letting out an ugly sob as tears collected in his eyes. “He’s gone,” he whispered, collapsing to the ground, pain flaring in his newly-healed hip. And this time, Pepper didn’t respond. Tears streamed down his face, rapid and resolute, as he knelt on the floor, Pepper bent down over him.

_It’s all my fault it’s all my fault it’s all my fault…_

*******

Tony paced his lab, a small part of him thankful that he could do that again, even though his movements were a little slower than he might’ve liked. After he had managed to rise to his feet in the warehouse, he and Pepper had taken to the air, doing a scan in nearby buildings for Peter, even checking back to the warehouse that Peter had met Klum in the day before, but had come back empty-handed.

Pepper had forced Tony back to the lab, and they had stopped on the way back to pick up the backpack that contained Peter’s suit and phone, both thankfully still there.

He reached up and rubbed his face, watching as FRIDAY ran through the city’s cameras again.

“Nothing, Boss.”

“Keep looking. And there’s no cameras by either warehouse where Klum met Peter?”

“No.”

Even though he had already asked that question a few times, each no that he got from FRIDAY spiraled him farther and farther into hopelessness. How was he supposed to find Peter? There was no way to track him. It seemed as if Klum had either avoided or erased himself from every camera. And every second that went by meant that Peter wasn’t safe. They could be torturing him. Tony almost blacked out when the thought hit him like a train: _What if he’s already dead?_

“Stark,” a voice boomed, and Tony whipped his head around to see Fury walking in, a deep frown on his face. “Why the hell did I get a call from Pepper when I was already asleep, telling me there was an emergency?”

Anger boiled in his stomach. _He’s the reason Klum got to Peter in the first place._ “Peter’s gone,” Tony snapped, completely turning to face the older man. “And you want to know something? I’m not feeling very nice right now, especially when you were the one who introduced him to Klum.”

“Klum?”

“Your little superhero friend Quentin Beck? Yeah, he’s actually a man named Francis Klum. Who so happened to work for me years ago on holographics.”

Fury’s eye got wide. “So all his powers-”

“Because of some machine.”

Fury’s eyebrows furrowed, and he was about to respond, when the elevator doors opened again. Out of it stepped Rhodey, Pepper, Ned, MJ, and Bruce, all looking weary but concerned.

“Peter’s missing?” Rhodey asked, approaching Tony first. “Are you okay?”

“Yes and no,” Tony managed, almost collapsing from the weight of the look his friend was giving him.

“Have you checked all the traffic cameras?” Bruce asked, crossing his arms.

“Yep.”

“Security?”

“Yep.”

“Tracked him?”

“Nothing to track.”

Bruce nodded. Tony opened his mouth, probably about to say something rude about Bruce’s questions, but then he caught the eye of MJ. The look on her face was intense and focused. He could practically see the gears spinning in her mind.

“Wait…where did Peter go before leaving?” MJ asked, her eyes uncharacteristically wide.

“Before he ran down to his room, I bumped into him up here-” Tony’s eyes widened. “Oh Jones, you’re a genius.”

Tony knew that MJ was more upset than she let since she let that comment go, but she just nodded and said, “Check them.”

“FRIDAY, pull up security footage from the lab. Start at 6:00 tonight, and then fast forward until you spot Peter,” Tony said, his fingers tapping against his leg.

A hologram pulled up, showing the time at the bottom of the screen moving quickly. Right when Peter entered the frame, the footage slowed so it was going at the normal speed.

“What’re you looking for?” Tony muttered to himself as he watched Peter. Peter was obviously distressed, as he looked around quickly and kept glancing back at the elevator doors, as if he expected someone to come out at any moment.

Peter made his way to the same desk that Tony was standing at, and Tony’s mouth dropped as Peter took his glasses that had control over his security system, EDITH.

“Fuck,” he said aloud, but he knew that word didn’t even begin to cover the trouble that they were in.

“What is it?” Ned asked, glancing at Tony nervously. Tony kept his eyes glued on the screen as he felt his pulse race faster.

“Put them back,” he murmured to himself, praying that Peter just placed them somewhere else in the lab. Because if those left the apartment and got into the wrong hands? The results would be catastrophic.

Peter sat at Tony’s computer for a few minutes, before he stood abruptly, visibly panicked. He was making his way towards the elevator, when Tony saw himself step out. He watched as past-Tony made a move to reach out towards Peter and watched as Peter screamed “Shut up!,” the words punching him in the chest a second time. Then, glasses still in hand, Peter bolted for the stairs, leaving past-Tony staring after him.

The footage cut, and Tony asked, “FRIDAY, where’s EDITH?”

“I cannot locate EDITH,” FRIDAY responded.

EDITH was gone. The extremely dangerous drones meant only to be used in the most dire of circumstances were now in the hands of Klum. Because EDITH had a tracker. Peter wouldn’t have known that, or else he wouldn’t have taken them with him in the first place. And if the tracker wasn’t working then it was removed.

“Tony?” He looked up to see Pepper standing in front of him, her hand on his face. “What’s going on?”

“Pepper, we’re fu-” he started, before he felt his face get hot, and the world started spinning around him, and he felt his body being lowered to the ground, before everything faded to black.

***

Francis raised a glass, a grin on his face as his workers mirrored the gesture, the EDITH glasses firm on his face. The people around him let out a cheer and then drank, the spirits high tonight. It had taken them years of planning, but they had _finally_ done it.

The real question, when trying to get the damn glasses, was how would they do it? Ever since Francis was fired by Stark for just trying to make a difference in the world, there had been a fire burning deep in his chest, driving him to appease it.

His holograms should have been what launched his career! It should’ve changed _everything._ But Stark had taken it and ridiculed it, still making millions of dollars that Francis would never see, in the process tarnishing his name for any future employers. After all, nobody wanted Tony Stark’s rejects.

But Tony Stark’s rejects were going to prove that they weren’t to be messed with. Through the years, Stark Industries had become more and more of a beast, firing employee after employee, essentially blacklisting them for good. Francis would’ve been homeless if it weren’t for Maguire. A jolt of pain went through him, angering the fire in his chest even more. The only reason he was able to do this was because of his cousin, who was also his best friend, and his will. But if Maguire was alive, he wouldn’t have been doing this in the first place.

So Francis had gathered all of Stark’s rejects, planting his own seeds of fury in them, sparking rage inside of them at the man that had caused all of their downfalls: _Tony Stark._

Why should he win when all of them lost? Why should he get to succeed after he made countless mistakes? Tony Stark had almost ended the world on several occasions. Tony Stark had cost countless people their lives. Tony Stark was the reason so many of his friends used to job hunt every day, coming home empty handed to their spouses and children, while the “genius billionaire playboy philanthropist” himself had made a family of his own that would forever profit off the backs of his low-income workers.

Because of this, it wasn’t hard to make…a revolution. Francis could replicate his holographic technology that Stark sold. William had combined Francis’s illusion tech with his own weaponized drones. Guterman had created the story of Quentin Beck (named after his cousin) so that it could fool even the smartest of people, people like Nick Fury. Victoria had come up with the idea to stage electromagnetic pulses at every attack sight.

And they almost got Stark, five years ago. They were almost ready to strike. But then half of Klum’s team had vanished, and he thought they were going to have to start from scratch. In a weird way, he had Stark to thank for bringing them all back so that he would bring about his own downfall.

And Janice…Janice had discovered the key, the key that they were missing five years ago, right before the blip, when his whole team was at a standstill because they couldn’t figure out how the hell they were supposed to get EDITH. Janice had discovered Stark’s weakness: Peter Parker.

His own daughter wouldn’t have been useful in the plan for years, as she was too young to go places without her parents. Not to mention that he wouldn’t have been able to appeal to her on a superhero level as “Mysterio.” But as soon as Janice had come back from the hospital where there were reports of Tony Stark, talking about a teenager hanging out with him, Klum knew they finally had their key.

He went down to the hospital and saw for himself a lone teenager sitting by the bed of an unconscious Tony Stark. Rumors around said that this kid was an orphan. Then it was only a matter of hacking into the hospital’s security cameras to discover that this kid, this scrawny teenager, was Spider-Man, _and_ was going to be living with Tony Stark.

A small pang of guilt had rung through his body. He didn’t want to have to bring a random kid into this. But the guilt was quickly absorbed by the raging fire, and he had steeled himself before seeking out Nick Fury once Peter was seen out as Spider-Man again.

“Klum.” William was in front of him, reaching out his hand. Francis clasped it, giving him a nod.

“I can’t believe we did it!” William hiccupped, a dopey smile on his face, and Francis had to suppress an eye roll. If William had his way, he would drink the days away. If Francis had to guess, that was probably part of the reason why he was fired in the first place.

“Will it be ready tomorrow?” he asked, crossing his arms.

“Surrreee,” William slurred.

A glare from Francis sobered him up a little.

“Sorry,” William said, blinking blearily. “Check with Janice. She’s in charge of finalizing the illusions.”

Francis nodded and slipped past William. He spotted Janice and held a hand up at her. As usual on the nights where they’d go to the bar, Janice had some sort of cocktail in her hand, and Francis knew that no matter how much she drank she wouldn’t get sloppy.

“Klum,” she said curtly, nodding in his direction.

“When will we be ready?” he asked, and she thought for a moment before responding.

“Give me another day.”

“I don’t know if we have a day. By now, Stark will have realized that we have EDITH.”

“But we covered up our new location and our escape from the warehouse pretty damn well. It would take weeks, if not longer for the government to find us. And Stark won’t find us for days.”

Francis nodded, his arms akimbo. “And Parker?”

“Still out. Once he wakes, he wouldn’t be able to leave if he tried.”

“Keep me updated. I don’t want any loose ends.”

“There won’t be.”

“Good,” Francis said, turning around and walking away without further comment. Janice was trustworthy. He knew that she wouldn’t mess this up.

He walked away from the party, so that it was just a dull hum before completely fading away as he zigzagged through the different halls. After bypassing several security checkpoints, he finally made it to the correct cell.

It was designed like the same cells that the Rogue Avengers were kept in, with a shield of lasers keeping Peter in. Even a superhuman like Spider-Man wouldn’t be able to get out. Inside, Peter was unconscious, his head slumped back against the wall. His hands were chained with vibranium against the wall for good measure. Francis suspected that his gas had only done part of the work in keeping Peter out for so long. Peter was very thin, with taunt cheekbones and a pale face. He looked as if he hadn’t eaten a good meal in months. Without anything covering his head, Francis could see several bald patches, likely from self-injury. How this kid still looked up to Tony Stark, when it seemed like Stark wasn’t taking care of him, was beyond Francis. Would Stark even care enough to come looking for Peter? If he showed up here, would it only be because of EDITH?

Satisfied, Francis turned around and headed toward his tech testing room. If they wanted to be ready for the big day, there was a lot of work to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Mentions of hairpulling, eating disorder, and described panic attacks
> 
> (Note #1: Francis Klum is another Mysterio - I know he has traits and all that original to him, but for the sake of this story, he's pretty much the same as Beck, but with a background in pharmaceuticals and a dead cousin)
> 
> (Note #2: I know I ended both Peter's and Tony's sections with them blacking out and probably should've wrote something different, but like - Peter's is bc of drugs and Tony's is bc of shock and worry so...please let this slide:))
> 
> Hey kiddos! So if you didn't see my note (I deleted it now), I was in an area in the midwest hit really hard by that derecho storm last Monday (exactly one week), and I still don't have internet or power. BUT I finally have enough phone service to connect my computer to it with a hotspot, so I was finally able to get this chapter up! Thank you for all the kind comments you sent my way after I put out that update last week - they really made me smile at a time that was a little rough for me:,)
> 
> Sorry for the wait (hopefully I make up for that with this almost 5,000 word chapter:)) - we're hoping for power in the next day or two! I can't guarantee I'll be able to get the next chapter up as soon as I'd like, but it should be a week or less. Thank you so much for reading - seriously, writing this story has kept me sane for a few nights of this whole mess. Please leave a comment and kudos if you want! See you soon!!<3


	28. EDITH

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look at the end for TW!

Even before he opened his eyes, he knew that he was in deep shit. There was a low hum that filled the air with the buzz of energy, and the room he was in felt unfamiliar, making his skin crawl. Peter opened his eyes. Panic flooded through his veins.

He was in a small room, where he was the only occupant. There was no furniture or anything at all. The three walls were a blank white, and he could hear the dull thrum alerting him that “entrance” was actually the most dangerous thing of all. He had seen something like that before, in pictures that Tony showed him of where the Rogue Avengers had been held after Civil War.

There was cool metal digging into his wrists, not loose enough where he could slip his wrists through, but also not tight to where they were cutting off his circulation. An experimental tug against the chains yielded nothing, and when he began to pull harder, they didn’t budge at all. Whichever way he pulled, they stayed fast to his wrists.

The panic began to increase. So he was in an unfamiliar place, with his wrists cuffed with some metal that he couldn’t break, in a room that proved unescapable for some of the world’s most intelligent and dangerous superhumans. And they had only escaped when let out from the other side.

His body began to shake, and Peter had to take a few deep breaths so that he wouldn’t go into a full-fledged panic attack. Somehow, it worked. He was able to stop himself from going into one when he was literally being held captive facing probable impending doom, but he couldn’t stop himself from going into one over walking to the hospital’s cafeteria. Who would’ve thought?

_ Focus, _ a voice said, but it wasn’t the hissing one that felt like it was grating against his skull. This one was deeper, and rough, although not unkind. With a jolt, Peter realized it was Tony’s voice.  _ Figure your way out of it, kid. They underestimated you. _

Even though Tony wasn’t really there, his voice in Peter’s head made him want to sob. If thought-Tony knew he could do it, he could believe in himself too.

Peter was suddenly reminded by those stupid Captain America videos that his school always showed, that always began with “So, you’ve…” and then went onto show the superhero giving cheesy advice that all the teachers ate up, so they would force the kids to watch them as well. He snickered to himself. If Tony ever saw those videos, Steve would never hear the end of it. A small pang of sadness went through him. Steve wasn’t around anymore, and who knew if Peter would even survive long enough to see Tony again? 

But one of those videos stuck out to him, one where Captain America said, “So, you’ve found yourself alone and in danger. Here’s what you can do.” At the time, it had seemed useless. When were they ever going to be hiking in the woods by themselves and at the mercy of a bear? When were they ever going to be in a random snowstorm all alone? When were they ever going to be in any other of the ridiculous examples that Captain America listed out?

If Peter got out of this, he would never make fun of those videos again.

_ Step one: Examine your surroundings. The tool you need to survive might be right next to you. _

Peter looked around, mentally calculating any escape route if he were able to get out of his chains. Fortunately, the room had a way out. Unfortunately, the only exit was the force field of energy, which only had controls from the outside.

_ Step two: Call for help anyway you can. A cell phone, a fire, a giant SOS sign. But remember, your most important resource is your voice. _

He could probably skip that step for now, as he left his cell phone back in some alley and knew that there weren’t going to be any friends around, or else he would’ve already escaped. Besides, if he managed to find a way out of this, the last thing he wanted to do was to draw attention to himself.

_ Step three: Think outside the box. No idea is a bad idea as long as you aren’t afraid to consider it. _

He had already tried to break out of the chains. Whatever metal they used must’ve been designed to keep superheroes in. Because those weren’t budging. Peter hung his head down in frustration. He didn’t want to just sit there waiting for his death or whatever Mysterio had planned for him. Because if Mysterio was a good guy, then Peter wouldn’t be in a cell.

What did “Francis Klum” want with those glasses, anyway? At this point, Peter was sure that’s what he was after. And they couldn’t just be for videos, or else why would Klum want them? Who was EDITH anyway? And why would Peter have control over it if he didn’t even know what it was?

His head swarmed with unanswered questions, but he knew two things for sure. One: Klum lied about Tony killing May to manipulate Peter. He played into Peter’s deepest fears, and took Peter’s morals and used them against him. Klum knew that Peter would want to prove Tony innocent. So he took advantage of that, fabricating a story to get what he wanted. And two: he had majorly fucked up. ( _ You’re worthless,  _ hissed the grating voice.  _ Shut up,  _ Peter thought back.  _ I can be mad at myself later.  _ The voice seemed content with that.) Whatever those glasses did, it couldn’t be good in the hands of Klum. And Peter had literally handed them over to him. 

Part of him was jumping with joy over the fact that Tony hadn’t done anything wrong. Part of him was feeling gnawing guilt at every doubting Tony in the first place. And the biggest part of him was churning in fear about what Klum was going to do to him, his friends, and his family.

Peter knew he was weak from hunger and fatigue, but he fought back the wave of tiredness that rolled over him, trying to keep his eyes open. Unfortunately, he couldn’t move far, so sleep claimed him quickly as he leaned his head against the wall, struggling all the while to stay alert and come up with a way out.

*** 

“Tony? Are you okay?” Bruce’s concerned face peered over him, making a large green face the first thing he saw when he opened his eyes. Tony almost punched his friend in surprise, but Bruce quickly leaned out of the way.

“Woah!” Bruce said, and Tony felt the adrenaline drain out of him as quickly as it arrived.

“Sorry, Brucie,” he said, sitting up with his friend’s help. That’s when he realized that he was laying on the floor of his lab, Pepper and many others looking down at him 

“Wha-” he began, but then it all flooded back to him. Peter running away. Going to the warehouse. The beanie. Collapsing. Coming back home. EDITH missing. And then blacking out. 

“Oh shit,” he muttered as he stood up, rubbing his head. “How long was I out?”

“Just under a minute,” Bruce said, looking Tony up and down. “Are you okay?”

“We need to find EDITH and Peter. Now,” he said, ignoring his friend’s question. “If Klum took Peter, he’s who has EDITH too.”

“Hold on a second,” Ned squeaked. His face turned red and he cleared his throat before continuing. “Who’s Edith?”

“Even Dead, I’m the Hero,” Tony said. When Pepper raised her eyebrow at him, he quickly continued, “She was really created in the event of my untimely demise. But it’s an augmented reality security, defense, and artificial tactical intelligence system I made.”

“In English?” Rhodey said, crossing his arms.

“Basically, she’s the access to Stark Industries’ global satellite network along with an arsenal of missiles and drones. And she can hack pretty much any computerized device.”

“So, who exactly has access to her?” MJ asked, narrowing her eyes. “Can anyone who puts on the glasses use her?”

“No. She’s only authorized to me,” Tony started, thinking back to when he programmed them. “Oh. And Peter.”

“Hang on. You gave a 16-year-old access to enough firepower to blow up the world?” Rhodey asked, his mouth slightly open 

“Once again, EDITH’s whole thing is that she was supposed to be access to the big guns after I died.”

“And you gave that access to Peter?” Rhodey asked, shaking his head.

“Yep. In my defense, developing a sort of ‘authorization switch’ where Peter wouldn’t have authorization until I died was on my to-do list.”

“I can’t believe-“ Rhodey began, anger clear on his face, but Pepper interrupted.

“We’re getting off track. Tony, is there any way that Klum could have control over EDITH right now?”

“Only if Peter transferred over his control.” A pit formed in Tony’s stomach.

“Did you ever actually talk to Peter about EDITH? Would he know what she even does?” Bruce asked.

“No. Remember, I was going to change the controls.”

“So if Klum somehow convinced him to turn over authorization or forced him to, Klum could have EDITH right now,” Bruce said, voicing the thought that Tony didn’t dare say out loud.

His voice wouldn’t work, but he gave a single nod.

“But are those glasses the only way that you can access EDITH?” Ned asked, frowning. “I mean, FRIDAY is in your suit and in your house, so shouldn’t you still have access to the program?

Tony didn’t respond as he sat down at his desk, opening the program. Just as he suspected. “I still have authorization,” he said, his voice coming out gravelly, “but I’m locked out. Klum changed the password.”

“Can’t you hack it?” MJ asked. “You’re only Tony Stark, apparently one of the smartest people in the world. You think that Klum’s codes can beat you?”

“It’s not that, Jones,” he said, already putting FRIDAY on trying to hack it. “EDITH is the most protected program in terms of defense against hacking. FRIDAY’s codes won’t be any match for her. But I’ll have her try regardless.”

“So then how are we supposed to stop Klum if we can’t hack into EDITH?” Ned asked.

Tony had been feeling the same sense of hopelessness. He had made EDITH pretty much unstoppable, even to himself. The whole idea made him want to laugh. The only person that could beat him in programming was himself.

“We’re just going to have to find Klum. Because wherever his ‘secret hideout’ is, that’s where EDITH and Peter are,” Pepper said, reaching out her hand and squeezing Tony’s. She turned her head toward him and gave him a determined smile.

“Yeah. You’re right, Pep,” Tony whispered, before clearing his throat and raising his voice. “Let’s go find my kid.”

“And how are you gonna do that?” Fury asked, glaring at Tony. “Every second that Klum has that tech of yours, the more that it risks our national security. You already said that you can’t track Peter or EDITH. Cameras are showing nothing. So what’s your play? You got us into this mess, Stark. How are  _ you  _ gonna fix it?

He began to furrow his eyebrows and started to rebuttal, but then all of his breath got knocked out of him. It  _ was  _ his fault. Maybe not that Peter had met Klum, but it was his fault that Klum had gotten a hold of EDITH. He was the one who decided to give a child authorization to something that could destroy the world and not put enough safeguards up to prevent it from slipping into the wrong hands. Tony blanked. What was he supposed to do? He hadn’t felt this hopeless since he watched Peter drift away in his arms, or when he was back in Afghanistan, his head forced underwater again and again, or when he was driving across the desert and everyone around him…

He blinked, and he was there in that truck, as bullets shot through the walls of the van. That soldier who was practically a kid, Jimmy, gunned down as soon as he left the truck. Tony’s senses dulled as he stepped out, stumbling around. He dove behind a rock for cover. His phone was out of his pocket. He was about to call for help. But then a bomb landed. His logo:  _ Stark Industries  _ was branded on the side.  _ Shit,  _ he thought, the biggest understatement of his life so far. And then it exploded. He flew through the air and there was pain in his chest and he pulled his shirt out of the way and blood began to pool…

“Tony.” He blinked and then he wasn’t there anymore. Somehow, he was sitting on the floor, and Pepper was kneeling in front of him. “You’re okay. You’re in the lab in New York,” she was saying, and by the raspiness of her voice he could tell that she had been speaking for a while.

When his eyes focused on her, she let out a long breath. “Thank goodness,” she breathed, and Tony could see that her eyes were wet. He frowned as he reached out with his hand, running his thumb gently under her eyes.

“Pepper?” he asked, and she just nodded, smiling faintly. He looked past her for the first time, and he couldn’t see any of the others that were there before, except for Bruce, who was standing a few feet away. “Where did they go?”

“Bruce and I had them leave,” she murmured, inching a little closer.

“You were unresponsive for almost two hours,” Bruce said, walking towards them and stopping just past Pepper’s shoulder. “I had everyone else go and rest for a bit.”

He was suddenly aware of how tight his muscles were clenched, and he relaxed his body, pain shooting through what felt like every one of his muscles. A deep exhaustion set through him, and as Pepper helped him up, he stumbled.

“Woah,” Bruce said, steading him. “I think you need to rest, Tony. 

“I can’t,” he whispered, his head beginning to pound. “I need…I need to find-“ He cut himself off as he looked around in confusion. What was he doing up here again? Something was missing. Wait, where was Peter?

“Where’s Peter?” he asked, frowning. “Is he downstairs too?

Pepper put her hand over her mouth and let out a choked noise, but Bruce just looked at him with sympathy. “You’re just disoriented. Let’s get some rest.”

“But where-“ he started, looking around in confusion. “Rest sounds good,” he said, although part of his brain was yelling at him to stay up there! There was something important that he was missing! But he let Bruce lead him to the elevator, Pepper walking behind him, making these strangled sobbing noises.

“Pepper, what’s wrong?” he asked, touching her on the shoulder. “Did I do something wrong?

She shook her head, and they went down the elevator and headed towards his room. His thoughts were jumbled, but he noticed MJ and Ned sleeping on the couch, and Rhodey’s voice coming from the kitchen. His eyebrows furrowed. They were all here for a reason. He knew that. Did it have something to do with Peter

_ Francis Klum.  _ The name hit him, although it didn’t have much meaning. Was he what Tony was forgetting?

“Klum…” he started to say as Bruce and Pepper helped him into bed, but Bruce shook his head.

“We can worry about Klum in the morning.”

Tony nodded, and his eyes felt heavy as soon as his head hit the pillow. He had never felt so tired in his entire life. As he drifted off to sleep, his brain felt fractured, as if it were trying to finish the puzzle without all the pieces.

***

_ Klum!  _ Peter’s eyes shot open, and he started to get up, only to be stopped by something holding his arms behind him. He shook his head and looked around, taking in the sight of the empty walls around him, his ears once again catching the faint buzz of energy. He shook his hands and heard a slight rattle. Right. He was being held in some sort of cell.

His throat was incredibly dry and tasted a little like battery acid, and he struggled to form saliva and swallow, trying to help the situation. This wasn’t good. He had to be pretty dehydrated already. That was also probably why it felt like there was hammering against his skull, a migraine so intense that he could barely see straight.

_ Come on, Peter,  _ he thought.  _ Don’t let that stop you. _

It’s funny how his thoughts only got optimistic when there was literally no way to get out.  _ Or is there?  _ He tugged on the chains again. His arms felt like limp noodles, weak and useless, but with another harsh tug that had him breathing heavily, he felt something in the wall shift, a motion so slight that the average person wouldn’t have noticed.

Whatever the wall was made of, it wasn’t nearly as strong as his chains. A slow grin spread across his face. If he could get the chains out of the wall? Well, then he would still have to figure out how to dismantle the energy that was acting as the prison bars, but he had to take it one step at a time.

Concentrating for a moment on his hearing, he confirmed that there wasn’t anyone immediately outside the cell that might hear what he was about to do. He took a deep breath, holding it, and as he pulled, he released it. Every muscle in his body strained when he pulled, and he heard that faint cracking noise again as he stopped. 

He wished he could stand so that he could pull harder. He wasn’t sure that he’d be able to get the chains off the wall, even with his superhuman strength. But he had to try. Gritting his teeth, Peter leaned as far forward as he could while sitting, and pulled hard, not relenting even when his arms shook from strain. He slumped against the wall, feeling that there was a small rise in the plaster where he had been pulling. A small grin sprung to his face. Maybe he could actually do it!

His skin prickled, and Peter quickly shoved his arms back down and closed his eyes. A few seconds later he heard footsteps headed his way. There didn’t seem to be any voices, so maybe it was only one person?

The buzz of energy faded and then came back as the footsteps got closer. Then, Peter could smell the faint scent of musk and hear the person’s breathing. The man (based on the tread of the steps) stopped a foot away from Peter. Peter forced himself to take slow, deep breaths and to keep his body relaxed, as much as his spidey senses were screaming at him to get away and attack this person. He had to remind himself that he didn’t know if this person had any weapons, and that he wasn’t in a good position to lead any moves on the offensive.

After a few minutes, the footsteps got farther away as the energy cut out and back in. He forced himself to keep still and keep his eyes shut, even after the footsteps had long faded away and his senses told him he was alone again. Only after he was sure there was nobody lingering around, Peter opened his eyes, letting out a breath of relief. He didn’t know if that was Klum himself or someone who worked for him, but until he got his chains off, he didn’t want anyone to think that he was awake. He didn’t know what they had planned for him once he was conscious.

Why were they keeping him here anyway? Wouldn’t it just be easier to kill him? Or did they have a use for him? The whole concept made Peter’s head spin. Either way, he didn’t plan to stick around long enough to find out.

Peter tugged on the chains again, feeling them give a little more than last time. That meant he was making progress. Another deep breath. Okay. Okay. He pulled as hard as he could, trying to go even further than last time. His shoulders began to burn. Peter felt sweat start to trickle down his face as he continued to pull, and finally  _ finally  _ there was a loud cracking noise that came with an excruciating pain in his shoulder, and he was lurched forward, landing not pleasantly on his side.

Peter let out a choked sob, his right shoulder feeling like it was on fire. Something had gone wrong, but he couldn’t let that stop him from finishing what he started. Unfortunately, to get up he needed to push on said shoulder. Peter bit his lip, letting out a strangled cry as he pushed forcefully up, getting himself back into a sitting position. He took a few breaths, each one a spasm in his chest as he tried to ignore the pain, hoping it would soon dull.

He didn’t know how long he waited, but finally the pain was a little more manageable, like a throbbing rather than stabbing pain, and he rose to his feet, his arms still cuffed behind him. Peter turned to look over his shoulder and saw a hole in the wall where the chain had been. As he suspected, the super-strong handcuffs and chains were attached to much weaker concrete.

The chain rattled as he dragged it behind him, a small chunk of concrete still attached at the end, making an awful scraping sound as he stepped towards the cell door. The heavy weight at the end didn’t help the pain in his shoulder, but at least he was now free from the wall. Now it was a matter of disabling the force field.

For what must’ve been hours, Peter stared at it, trying to come up with any solution, any at all that wouldn’t end up with him getting scorched. But the controls were from the outside, and even if they were within reach, he would have to know access codes or at least be able to type things in, something that would be very hard to do with his hands behind his back.

Peter sighed and sat back down, doing his best to maneuver the chain back into the wall with his burning shoulder. If he couldn’t disable the door, then it was time for plan B: waiting. This was his least favorite plan. But when someone came in next to do whatever they did last time, Peter would be ready. He tried to make himself as comfortable as he could with the intense throbbing in his most-likely-dislocated shoulder, and kept his face towards the door. He  _ would  _ be ready. Because he had a feeling that if Tony hadn’t found him yet, that he was pretty well hidden. His own rescue and escape would have to be up to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: flashbacks (as in PTSD or ASD), other PTSD symptoms
> 
> Okay...I know I'm causing our boys a lot of pain...but hear me out: it's only going to get much worse from here;) (I love hiding behind the "creator chose not to use warnings" tag teeheehee bc I can choose to do whatever I want whenever I want...)
> 
> My power and internet are both back!! So even though this derecho screwed up my plans of having this finished before I move into my dorm on the 30th, I'll do my best to get as much written before that happens. 
> 
> Thank you all so so much for reading!! Reading through all your comments always makes me want to cry from the amount of support you guys are all giving this story. :,) So thank you all so so much. <3 Please leave a kudos comment if you'd like letting me know what you think, and what your predictions are for what happens next! (I'm really curious:)) I'll see you all soon!!
> 
> (Edit 8/29 - Ahhh!! Sorry kiddos - I really wanted to have another chapter out by now. Life has been CRAZY this past week and I know it won't get any less hectic after I move in tomorrow. Keep being your wonderful, patient selves and I'll do my best to get something out soon!! <3)


	29. The Search

Tony opened his eyes to the ceiling of his bedroom. To his side, the bed was empty where Pepper slept, the sheets slightly crinkled and the comforter pulled half up. When he tried to think back to how he got there, his memory blanked. He remembered being in the lab and talking about how they were going to help Peter, but it was like someone pressed the “delete” button on anything that happened after that. 

He swung his legs over the side of the bed, a little flash of pride going through him at how much easier the motion was getting. When he tried to stand, his legs shook, and he fell back down on his butt. Shaking his head slightly, he tried again, this time managing to get all the way up. He dressed quickly, and avoided staring too long at himself in the mirror above his dresser. Tony looked at the walker next to his bed, and decided to defy his doctor’s orders for the day. If he could walk in the Iron Man armor, then he could without a walker too.

(It didn’t occur to him after taking a failed step forward and having to grab onto his dresser for support, that he had outfitted the nanobots with support in his legs so that he could walk in the suit, but that same support wouldn’t be there normally. Needless to say, he ended up grabbing the walker with a sigh and trudging to the kitchen, mentally cursing the stupid device the whole time.)

The downstairs area was surprisingly empty, especially since there were multiple guests staying here. He made his way to the kitchen and made a cup of coffee, leaning against the counter as he quickly drank it. 

“FRI, where is everyone?” he asked, placing his empty mug in the sink. 

“They’re in the lab, boss.”

Tony made his way upstairs, stepping into the elevator. When he stepped out into his lab, he saw everyone sitting in a circle, discarded bowls in the corner, and full coffee mugs in many of the adults’ hands. Bruce was speaking, and everyone was watching him intently, except for Morgan. She was sitting in a beanbag chair that must’ve been brought up from her room in the corner, headphones on as she watched something on Pepper’s laptop. If Tony had to bet, his money would be on “Moana.”

“Tony,” Bruce said, and everyone turned to look at him. He made his way over to his desk, where he rolled over his chair to the circle and took a seat in it. 

“What’s going on? Any progress?” Tony asked, looking around at the faces in front of him. MJ and Ned looked tense and weary, expressions that made them look a lot older than they were. Rhodey and Fury both had neutral expressions, although Tony knew well enough that what they portrayed gave nothing away. Agent Hill had arrived, and she had an expression similar to her boss, stone-cold. And Bruce and Peppers’ faces were downcast, and Bruce slowly shook his head. 

“Nothing yet,” Bruce said, running a hand through his hair. “Klum really has all the safeguards in place. FRIDAY hasn’t managed to hack EDITH, either.”

“Any progress at all, FRI?”

“No. Sorry, boss,” came the voice of his AI, with what sounded like a tinge of sympathy. 

“So what I’m hearing is that Klum hasn’t made any mistakes? What about his cronies? Anything from them?”   


“We don’t know who they are,” Hill said, crossing her arms. “Whenever Klum came to us, he always was alone.”   


“Klum used to work for you,” Pepper said, her eyes meeting Tony’s. 

“Yeah he did,” Tony said. “Before I fired him.”

“Did you fire anyone else in that same timeframe? Well actually, I know for a fact you did.”

“Obviously,” Tony said, before a slow grin came to his face. “Oh. Ms. Potts. You truly are a genius, aren’t you? FRIDAY? I want you to go into the HR records of Stark Industries and pull up any terminations following Klum’s. And I want all of them.”

“Pepper,” Tony then said, turning to his wife, “you and I are going to go through what FRIDAY finds and see what we can find on what our past employees did after we fired them.”

“Already on it,” Pepper said, walking over to one of the computers and immediately diving into what FRIDAY was pulling up.

“What do you want us to do?” Ned asked. 

“I need the rest of you to be ready. Once we have addresses, I’m sending groups to each one to check it out,” Tony said, standing up from his chair and wheeling it back over. In his peripheral vision, he watched as the other members of his team (never did he think that Ned and MJ would become part of any team of his) began to make their way to the different desks, Rhodey taking the one closest to Morgan so that he could keep an eye on her. For the first time since finding out that Klum had EDITH and Peter, Tony felt a small spark of hope. 

***

Peter felt dizzy anytime he opened his eyes. He wasn’t sure how long Klum had kept him in the cell, but it had to be approaching a full day. How long was Klum planning on keeping Peter there? Shouldn’t he already have been given the “evil villain” speech, where he finds out Klum’s plans and his motives?

It was making Peter internally antsy. Despite his exhaustion and fatigue, he felt like a wound up spring, ready to snap at any moment. His nails scratched at the pads of his fingers behind him, a scab he had on his index finger reopening and starting oozing blood. 

The thrum of anxiety was a constant inside his chest, each breath feeling slightly suffocating. While he had managed to keep himself from going into a full fledged panic attack, the longer he waited for someone to come into his cell, the more the anxiety pooled deep into his stomach, making his chest ache and stomach churn. 

A slight sound from down the hall alerted Peter to someone coming. He quickly forced his body to lose all tension, leaning his head back against the wall and closing his eyes. He hated being blind to who was coming, but as long as the person was a regular human, then he could handle them based on his hearing, at least for the initial attack. 

Heavy footsteps approached him again after he heard the buzzing sound of the door cutting out and back in again. Peter pictured the room in his mind. Just three more steps forward. Two steps. Just one step closer…

In one motion, Peter yanked the chain out of the wall and rose to his feet, his shoulder burning with the sudden motion. He opened his eyes and kicked out as hard as he could against a surprised looking man who was a few inches taller than Peter. 

He did his best to only use a bit of his super strength, as he wasn’t trying to send the guy to his own grave or anything. But Peter winced as he heard a  _ crack  _ as his foot connected with the man’s abdomen. He instantly collapsed, groaning and clutching his side as Peter whispered, “Sorry!” 

Peter bit back a groan as he shifted his weight. His ankle didn’t like the harsh treatment he had just given it. He took a tentative step towards the exit. His leg didn’t crumble beneath him, although his ankle throbbed. But as long as he could move he was okay.

As he looked up at the doorway, the energy was back, its dull thrum keying Peter into its power. He frowned. There didn’t appear to be anyone on the other side waiting to let this guy out. So how was he supposed to get out on his own? There must be some sort of remote the guard had.

Peter leaned over the man, the poor guy not even attempting to get up or threaten Peter or anything. He honestly felt kind of sorry for this guard. He obviously wasn’t a high-ranking employee for Klum or anything. His eyes drifted downwards, and something silver gleamed on the man’s belt. Peter studied it for a second, before quickly and gently stepping on it and yanking it away from the belt. 

Once again, the man made no attempt to stop him as he maneuvered down. His still slightly sore ankle from the previous night (and from kicking a man’s ribs) started flaring up as he did so. Peter winced. Although he had accelerated healing that should’ve completely healed his sprain (making the kick not a big deal) and made his shoulder usable, his poor diet and sleep regiment was preventing that from happening. 

After fumbling for a few seconds, the small silver remote was in his hands. Before he had picked it up, he had studied it for a second, trying to memorize the different buttons. He let out a small shrug. It wasn’t like pressing all the buttons would do anything bad, right? 

So he proceeded to button mash, in a way that would’ve made Ned proud of him (Peter was notoriously bad at arcade games. Whenever he and Ned used to go to the mall and to the old arcade, Ned would absolutely sweep in terms of victories.). After a few tries, the buzzing dissipated, and Peter could tell that it was safe to leave. Another quick once-over of the guard didn’t show him anything like a key that he could use to get out of the cuffs. Great. He couldn't wait to try to escape with both hands literally tied behind his back. 

Peter stepped out of the cell, wincing at both the pain in his body and the scraping sound the chains made dragging behind him. So he wouldn’t exactly be stealthy. He button mashed again, getting the energy back up, trapping the guard inside. He couldn’t exactly let the guy go yet. Hopefully someone would notice the guard didn’t return sometime soon, but hopefully not before Peter could get out of wherever he was.

Gritting his teeth, Peter began to make his way down the hall to the right, where the guard had been coming from. With his slight limp from his ankle, heavy and grating chains he was carrying behind him that kept his hands behind his back, and a stabbing pain in his shoulder, he was definitely at a disadvantage. But would it really be a mission if he wasn’t? 

As he came to a door, Peter took a deep breath. His own rescue was up to him. If he ever wanted to see Tony again, to tell him how...Peter shook his head lightly. Then he steeled himself and turned around so his hands could open the door. After a few seconds of fumbling with the knob, he heard a low creak behind him. Then, Peter turned back around and stepped into the darkness.

***

“Are we on schedule?” Francis asked, walking into the room. Immediately, everyone in the room looked a little busier than they had ten seconds ago. 

“Yes, we should be,” Janice said, looking up from her computer. Next to her sat William looking at something on her monitor, significantly more sober than he was last night, although the bags under his eyes were a tell of his hangover. “Have you heard anything?”

“No, it’s been quiet. Imagine that. Stark not being able to break his own code,” Francis said, quirking up his lip slightly. “The test run we did earlier looked good,” he continued, crossing his arms. “It has the potential to be something the world has never seen.”

Janice pursed her lips and nodded, obviously only half-listening to what he was saying. He didn’t let it anger him though. Janice was good at her job. She wasn’t as talented at any of this as William or Francis himself was, but there was a reason she was fired. Stark was obviously intimidated by her work. 

“William, what’s the progress on the drones? Are all of them accounted for?”

“Yes. All in perfect shape and ready,” William said, after clicking for a few seconds on his own computer. “Are the glasses all good? No bugs or anything?”   


“Of course there’s no bugs. You really think Stark would make them any less than perfection?”   


“Then we’re ready for the next step,” Janice said, locking eyes with Francis. There was a sort of finality, an impending tension in her voice that made Francis’ heart race with excitement. Shit was about to go down. 

“Yes, we are.”

***

Tony felt like banging his head against his desk. And he would’ve done so if he weren’t worried about aggravating any of his previous injuries. 

“So what you’re saying is that there’s nothing; no sign of any of them?” he asked, rubbing his head with his palm.

“Basically,” Pepper said, and even her voice sounded tired. It was almost 10 pm and there was nothing; no trace of any of his previous employees anywhere abnormal. He couldn’t even trace any of their phones. All of their locations led nowhere or were untraceable. The locations that they got were just residential neighborhoods or somewhere outside of New York (Tony had FRIDAY scope out the addresses outside the state. Nothing there either.). And Tony had a feeling that it wasn’t that Klum was working alone. He was just that good with making himself invisible. 

“I mean, we’ll all know when he uses EDITH, right?” Ned asked, sitting down heavily on a chair. “He can’t hide using weaponized drones.”

“That’s not the problem,” Bruce said, adjusting his glasses. “The problem is that if he deploys those drones, there’s no telling the catastrophic damage they’ll do.”

“What’s his play?” MJ asked, standing up suddenly. “Why does he want EDITH so bad in the first place? All he used those holograms for in the first place was to set himself up as a hero. What if he’s trying to incorporate EDITH into those, and make an even bigger and more dangerous show than last time?”

“So it’ll cause catastrophic damage  _ and  _ frame him as the hero,” Rhodey said, crossing his arms over his chest. “That filthy liar.”

“But it could get worse than that,” Bruce said, his eyes going wide. “Even if his holograms don’t work, assuming that he’s going to use those again, and someone identifies them as Stark Industries technology, Tony would be in deep trouble. And that’s assuming that Klum doesn’t try and take all of us out.”

“But how would he know everyone involved?” Ned asked, and even though Tony could tell that he was trying to hide it, fear flashed through his eyes. 

“EDITH has surveillance capabilities. The drones can be cloaked,” Tony said, mentally slapping himself. At the time, it had seemed like a good idea. And it was a good idea, just not in the hands of a supervillain.

“So now we have to worry about invisible robots that can kill us? Is that what you’re telling me, Stark?” Fury asked, glaring at Tony.

“FRIDAY would most likely be able to detect them,” Tony replied.

“Most likely-” Fury began to say, but was interrupted by a loud beeping noise. Immediately, all eyes in the room were on the holographic screen FRIDAY had just pulled up. A bright red dot was blinking, and Tony heard his heart beat in his ears. 

“Tony, what is that?” Pepper asked, the red light reflecting in her wide eyes. 

“It’s a location. FRIDAY found EDITH,” Tony slowly said, not believing what he was saying. 

“Wait, so she hacked her?” Ned asked excitedly. 

“FRIDAY, did you break through?” Tony asked. 

“No,” she replied. “EDITH’s location was turned back on.”

Tony felt all the eyes in the room on him. “So, it’s a trap,” Fury said, glaring at the screen. 

“I don’t care,” Tony said, his eyes not leaving the small dot, the dot that could lead to EDITH and...and to  _ Peter.  _ To his kid. He knew where his kid was!

“Stark, think this-” Hill began to say.   


“No. Shut the fuck up,” Tony spat, glaring at her and at Fury. “My kid is there. I’m going. I don’t care what you think or if you think you can stop me. I’m going to get him back.”

“Tony, they’re not saying that they’re going to stop you. We just need to think-” Rhodey said, but Tony had already grabbed his walker and was heading towards the elevator.

He didn’t make it two feet before a strong hand was on his shoulder, firmly stopping him in place. “Bruce. Let me go,” he said with a dangerously quiet tone, not turning around. 

“We want to help.” Bruce forced Tony to turn around and look back at him. Behind him, the other members of the group had varying levels of concern written across their faces. Any strength Tony had in him crumbled and Bruce had to steady him. 

“Okay.” His voice wavered, and he cleared his throat, wiping at his nose. If there was moisture in his eyes, nobody commented on it.

“We just have to be smart about how we do this,” Bruce continued. “That’s all they were trying to say earlier.”

Rhodey, Fury, and Hill at least had the decency to look a little uneasy. Well, Fury not so much. But Rhodey and Hill gave Tony apologetic looks. “So you’re all in?” Tony asked, looking around the room. “Even though it’s a trap?”

Everyone nodded, and even MJ and Ned did as well, even though they wouldn’t be joining the rest of the team. Tony frowned. If Klum was sending drones after them, he didn’t want the two of them caught in the middle of it. MJ and Ned were just kids, just like Peter.

“Okay. We leave in 10,” Tony said, and the group quickly left the room. Tony pulled out his cellphone, scrolling through his list of contacts. He had a few phone calls to make. Then, he would go and find his kid. 

Even though Peter couldn’t hear him, Tony still mumbled into the air as he hit call for the first contact, “Hang in there a little longer, kid. I’m coming.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHHH sorry for how long this took to update! I just moved in to my dorm yesterday (woohoo!) and it went really well, but unfortunately left me with like no time to write in the past week. So now I'm all settled, and even though I can't guarantee how fast updates can be with classes starting soon, it should be less than a week:)
> 
> AND OMG!!! Thank you all so much for over 16k reads are you guys kidding me?? That's crazy!! I appreciate you guys so so much <3- from every kudos and comment to those of you even just reading this, thank you! :')
> 
> Please leave a comment and/or kudos if you'd like! I can't wait for you all to join me in the pit of angst that's about to be the next chapter...


	30. Discovered: Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please please please check the TW at the end!! This one's a woozy!

Peter looked around. He must’ve been in some sort of hallway. On either side of him were metal walls, with fluorescent lights burning down from the ceiling. In his condition, with his arms stuck behind his back and the inability to move quickly because of his fatigue and injuries, he was painfully exposed. 

He moved as quickly as he could down the hall, the chains dragging behind him with a jarring grating sound. At one point, he had to stop just so his senses wouldn't become overstimulated from the brightness of the lights and the loud sound without his mask to filter them out. 

Finally he came to a place where the hall was divided. To his left was a short length of hallway and another door. He limped over and pulled on it, facing his back towards the door to do so. It was locked. Usually he would be able to get it open pretty easily, but with his shoulder still occasionally throwing his body into a state of agony, he couldn’t risk making it worse. That left him to continue straight. 

After a few more minutes of trudging through the seemingly endless hall, Peter finally came to a door. After testing it, it was unlocked. He made his way through the door with a little difficulty, and had to squint for a moment to adjust to the almost nonexistent lighting of the room.

The room was large, and he could see the floor about thirty feet below him, with a smooth concrete floor with a cluster of computer monitors off to the side. Thankfully Peter couldn’t hear or see any other people in the room, as the weighted door closed behind him with a slam and his chains continued to scrape against the floor. He was on a sort of wide construction catwalk, with metal railings along the side and grated metal beneath his feet. It left just enough room for the average person to feel comfortable, but not allow more than three people walking side by side on it at a time. The catwalk continued around the perimeter of the large, circular room, and Peter could see another door across the exit. 

He felt a chill run down his spine as he began to slowly make his way across the catwalk, attempting to keep the chains from getting caught in the square holes. He had almost made it halfway, and was walking along the back of the room, when his spidey senses began to scream. 

Peter turned his head to see the door he came in opening, and an unfamiliar man with a handgun pointed at Peter step out onto the catwalk. He began to turn to make a break for the other door, but then that too was opening and out stepped Beck, or rather Klum, who began to slowly walk towards Peter. From what Peter could tell he didn’t have any weapons on him, but Tony’s glasses sat on his face, and Peter felt his blood turn cold. 

“Peter.” Klum’s eyes were daggers piercing into his, making Peter’s hands tremble from where they were behind his back. 

“You’re Klum?” Peter asked, his jaw clenched.

“Francis Klum,” he said, still maintaining his slow pace. Through his peripheral vision, Peter could see that there were now people on the first level that had guns trained on him, in addition to the man on the catwalk. He counted five total.  _ Shit.  _ He was screwed. He might normally have a slight chance of getting out alive with those odds, but there was no way he could fight them all in the state he was in. 

As his mind strained to find some way out of the room that wouldn’t result in him turning into Swiss cheese, he asked, “Who are you? I know your name, but up until yesterday I thought you were a superhero from another reality. Something tells me that isn’t the case.”

Klum grinned, but his smile was cold. “And why should I reveal my plans to you?”

“Does that mean you’re not going to kill me?” Now he was just confused. In his experience with supervillains, they couldn’t wait to impress you with their evil scheme before they attempted to kill you. Klum had kept him captive, and Peter hadn’t been told any more than his name. 

Something flashed in Klum’s eyes. Pity? No. Guilt. “Peter, I’m afraid that for me to succeed, I can’t have you in my way.”

“Then why wouldn’t you tell me your big play?” His mind spun faster and faster, trying to look for an exit, but as each second went on, with the guns still on him and Klum getting closer by the second, his panic grew. There was no way out. 

“Why waste time? But you’re a smart kid. I think you should have figured out why I needed you alive until now.”

Unfortunately, once he was given an idea, his brain latched onto it. That meant that his thoughts immediately began to race about a much less important issue than his escape: Klum’s plan. “I’m...you kept me alive for a reason,” Peter said slowly, his eyes darting to the ceiling and floor. “You...you needed me alive until now. But now you need me dead.”

“Yes. But why?”

As Klum started to get closer and closer to him, Peter felt himself taking tentative steps backwards, his chest starting to rise and fall faster. “I...I don’t know. Did you have a ransom on me?”   


“No. But you were bait.”

_ Bait. Who was he trying to catch- _ Peter’s eyes widened as he remembered the look in Klum’s eyes whenever he would mention Tony’s name. It was pure rage. Most people wouldn’t have that strong of a reaction to someone like Tony unless they’d interacted with them. 

“Tony. You’re luring out Tony.”

Anger flashed through Klum’s eyes, and Peter knew that he’d nailed it on the head. “Wait,” Peter continued, looking at the glasses sitting on Klum’s face. “Why the glasses? If you hate Tony so much, then why would you want to use something he invented?”   


“Because it lets me do this,” Klum said. He whispered something so quietly even Peter couldn’t catch it, and then the door behind him opened and a dozen or so drones filed in behind him. His breath caught in his chest as they began to make a tight formation, and suddenly everything around him turned black. 

_ A hologram, _ the sensible part of his brain said.  _ That must’ve been how he made those giant monsters we fought. But they seemed so real.  _ The other part of his brain was in full panic mode as he struggled against the cuffs again, but they wouldn’t budge. 

Dimly he was aware that he was still on the catwalk, but the entire room shifted, and he was standing in the hallway of his old apartment that he lived in with...with  _ May.  _ The door in front of him swung open, and standing there was May, except she was half-decomposed. Her skin was rotting, with pieces of it falling off as she mutely walked toward Peter. Her eyes were gouged out, empty pits boring into him. She opened her mouth, her teeth breaking off as her mouth twisted into a grotesque smile.

Peter screamed as he frantically backed away, but he wasn’t fast enough. She was reaching out toward him, her hand turning to bones and her hand almost brushed his face- 

He suddenly was able to back away, and his back slammed into something solid. Pain shot through his body, but he scrambled back up to his feet as the scene changed. He was falling, falling through the sky and past the length of skyscrapers and the ground was getting closer and closer. He felt tears begin to stream down his face, the wind drying them immediately. Even he couldn’t survive this fall. He braced himself. 

As soon as he was about to hit the ground, he was standing upright again, and Peter looked up to see Mysterio in front of him. Anger flooded through him, and he let out a yell as he kicked out, but his already injured foot made contact with the wall of the building. Peter bit back a cry as he retracted his foot, pain shooting through it. 

_ “I don’t think you know what’s real, Peter,”  _ came Klum’s voice, but it seemed to echo all around him. And then a giant fist was coming at him, and as he jumped out of the way, his head knocked back against a wall. This time, he couldn’t hold in the scream that erupted from his throat as it felt as if his head was being split open from pain. He collapsed to the ground from the sheer force. As he tried to stand, he almost blacked out. Blood dripped down the back of his neck. 

His vision blurred, and he squinted as he tried to bring it into focus. Twenty different Iron Mans shot towards him, and Peter couldn’t help the smile that broke across his face. But it was short lived as they began to close in on him, their arms up and energy whirling as propulsors started to whirl. Then, Tony’s voice let out a scream from within them, as all of their right arms broke off, as if they had been cut off. Blood spurted from the site and it began to cover his body. Peter couldn’t help the vomit that spilled out of his mouth. When he looked down, his eyes widened as he noticed that it was tinged red. 

_ “If you were good enough, Tony wouldn’t have gotten hurt,”  _ Klum’s voice said. And then Tony was there in front of him, his face ashy as he laid unconscious on the battlefield. But as Peter stumbled towards him, he knew he was dead. He was too still, too pale. 

Peter tried to reach out, but his hand was stuck behind his back. He let out a choked sob, but then everything was changing again and Tony was gone. And then as he took one more step forward, he was falling again, but the holograms were gone and a sick feeling came to his stomach as he knew that  _ this was real. _ That he was falling and falling and falling and for a single moment, it was almost peaceful as the ceiling got farther and farther away. He landed with a sickening thud. 

Pain exploded through his body. His hands were crushed beneath him, and they were numb, as if his mind couldn’t process the sheer magnitude of what was happening. He was able to curl his head up slightly so it didn’t get hit again, but as he struggled to open his eyes, he knew that a normal person wouldn't have survived that. As he tried to move to get up, he fell back down as agony wrecked through his abdomen. He wasn’t sure if he was screaming. Was he crying? Everything was secondary to the  _ pain.  _

He finally managed to get his eyes open. When he did, Klum was still standing on the platform above him. Although Klum’s voice was a dull sound, the man said, “For what it’s worth...Peter, I really am sorry.”

Then he was turning away, and Peter was about to call after him. What was he sorry about? He wasn’t dea-

He heard a few faint clicks and Peter knew. He knew why he had been tricked into falling off the platform. Because when he needed to do it most, he couldn’t move out of the way. He felt the most pain he’d felt in his entire life, immediately causing his vision to spot and a scream was ripped out of his throat. And then there was nothing. 

***

“Where are they?” Rhodey asked, frowning as he looked around the empty parking lot. “Weren’t they supposed to be here by now?”   


“Tony asked them pretty last-minute,” Pepper said, but her eyes were worried. She knew as well as he did that they couldn’t go into this without the proper reinforcements. 

“We’ll give them another minute,” Tony muttered, but with every passing second, he felt anxiety build up more and more inside his stomach. What if they didn’t show up?   


He let out an internal sigh of relief when a nondescript black car pulled up next to them, coming to a stop. A few seconds later, the front and passenger doors opened, and if Tony smiled a little inside his helmet, only FRIDAY would know. 

“Wilson,” he said with a nod. “Thanks for coming.”

“Like I’d miss the fun,” Sam said, and Tony noticed with a pang the shield that sat on his arm, the shield that had once belonged to someone else. He hated to say it, but it suited Sam. He would make Steve proud. 

“Aren’t you going to thank me?” Clint asked, coming up to the side of Sam. Tony rolled his eyes. 

“Thank you for coming out of retirement for the thirtieth time, Barton. Now we need to get moving,” Tony said, holding up his hand to stop Clint from protesting. 

“This is where FRIDAY led you?” Rhodey asked, gesturing to their current surroundings. 

“FRI, is this right, dear?” Tony asked, furrowing his eyebrows. It wasn’t like his AI to be wrong. 

“Yes,” she replied. “I detect multiple heat signatures underground.”

“Ah. So that’s where he’s hiding,” Tony said, his eyes going down. “FRI, where’s the nearest subway entrance?”

“Two blocks, boss.”

“Lead us there.”

A few minutes later, they were standing at the bottom of the stairs, the vast collection of tunnels and tracks surrounding them. As it was past ten pm, there weren’t many civilians present. From the stench of alcohol coming from a particular group of people, the subway was most likely being used for bar hopping more than anything else. He ignored the blatant stares that his team was getting from the more alert New Yorkers as he asked FRIDAY, “Where to next?”   


“I detect the heat signatures from earlier to the left.”

Tony narrowed his eyes as he scanned the subway stop. There were traintracks to his left, but attempting to go across them would be suicide, as he could distantly hear the train about to pull in.  _ There.  _ In the far left of the station, there was a maintenance door. Tony walked straight toward it. 

Pepper saw where he was headed and beat him to it, and she jiggled the door knob. She looked back at him before shrugging, and before Tony could say anything she held up her hand and blasted the door knob off. 

“Damn,” Clint muttered as Pepper swung open the door. “You just pulled a Tony.”

Tony barely heard him as he stepped through. He could hear his heart beat pounding in his chest. With every step that he took leading the group down what was definitely not a maintenance closet, the more the thought hammered into his mind, to where he could barely think except for that one thought:  _ What if we’re too late? _

A small ping filled the air. Tony looked down in surprise to see Pepper’s metal hand gripping onto his. Even though he couldn’t see her face, he knew that her mouth would be drawn into a tight line, her face carefully blank if she didn’t have the helmet on. But since it was up, she could show her worry on her face. 

He looked over at her, nodding slighting with his head and gripped her hand back. He got her message clearly: no matter what happened, he wouldn’t have to go through it alone. He would always have her at his side. 

As they approached the end of the hall, FRIDAY said, “You have an incoming call from Mr. Banner.”

“Put it through.”

“Are you there yet?” asked Bruce.

“I was about to call you,” Tony said, rolling his eyes. “Are the kids okay?”

“For now,” Bruce replied, sighing. “Morgan isn’t awake, and Ned and MJ are currently talking on the couch. I tried to tell them to go to sleep, but they refused. I can’t blame them.”

After a beat, Bruce asked, “So you found Klum’s hideout?”

“We think so. There’s a door ahead, and we’re about to go in. Have Fury or Hill seen anything?”

“No. FRIDAY hasn’t sensed any cloaked devices either.”

“Okay. Keep me updated.”

“You too. And Tony?”

“What?”   


Bruce’s voice got quiet. “Bring Peter home safely. He’s a good kid.”

Tony swallowed, his throat thick. “I will.” He hoped he could keep that promise. No. He  _ had to  _ keep that promise.

With that, Bruce hung up, leaving Tony feeling a little better about one of his kids’ safety. The other? That was up to him. He quickly moved forward, grabbing the door from where Sam was holding it open for him, the rest of the group already having entered.

_ I’m almost there, Pete,  _ he thought, stepping over the threshold. 

Immediately, he was hit by the smell of foul air, even worse than the subway station. He curled up his lip. It smelled like old sewage, and something fresher, like something had recently...

_ No.  _ He couldn’t let himself go there. He shook his head to clear his thoughts, moving as quickly as he could to catch up with the rest of the group. They were standing in a clump, looking forward, and he almost asked, “What’s going on?” when he noticed it. In front of them was a collection of monitors, and from what Tony could tell the center was relating to seismic activity. 

“So that’s how he did it,” Rhodey murmured, stepping closer to get a better look. Tony involuntarily took a step forward as well, almost mesmerized by all the information the monitor was showing. He had to hand it to Klum. He had managed to recreate vibrations, to show where an “elemental” would be, making it believable to even Fury himself. 

But looking at the far right monitor, Tony’s heart dropped in his chest. It was showing the status of the drones, and by the looks of it, they were ready to be deployed, with a few already missing. He scanned the desktop for a mouse or keyboard, but couldn’t find anything. It seemed as if these were only for monitoring, that all the control was likely being left to Klum himself. 

“That son of a bitch really does have it,” he muttered, glaring at the screen. He forced himself to turn away from them and to the door at the end of the room. He couldn’t do anything to stop Klum from here. 

As soon as his hand touched the doorknob, he felt a jolt run down his spine, like ice piercing his lower back. He stopped for a second, before turning the doorknob with a shaking hand. Dread filled his stomach, turning it into a dark pit. 

The sewage smell decreased when the door opened, but that sickly fresh scent increased. Before he even caught a glimpse of the ground, Tony somehow knew deep down what he would find. But that didn’t stop the choked sob that caught in his throat. 

On the ground a few feet away was Peter. His eyes were closed, and there was blood pooled beneath him. As Tony unwillingly stepped closer, Peter’s unnatural paleness was in view. His shirt was ripped, and Tony could see multiple...places where bullets must’ve entered his body. His hands were underneath him. Tony could see that they were unnaturally splayed. Even though a majority of the blood seemed to be coming from his abdomen, there was a slow trail of blood coming down from the back of his head. 

Tony collapsed to his knees. “Peter?” he whispered, retracting his helmet. He reached out his hand and tentatively shook Peter’s shoulder. There was no response. 

“FRIDAY? Do a scan, please?” he asked, unable to ask her his real question. 

“He’s alive,” she said, and Tony felt relief slightly push away the fear that was burning through his veins. But then FRIDAY went on to say, “He needs medical attention immediately, boss. He’s in critical condition.” 

And then the fear was back, because when FRIDAY said that, it was basically code for “brink of death.”

His kid was almost dead. His kid could die. His kid  _ might  _ die. And this was all his fault. If he had just gotten Peter help, gotten him someone to talk to, then he might’ve come to Tony with his problems. And if he had actually thought for a single moment and hadn’t been so damn  _ selfish _ , then he never would have let Peter go out as Spider-Man in the first place so soon after his aunt died.  _ All of this  _ was his fault. 

He wasn’t aware he wasn’t being responsive until Rhodey shook him roughly. “Tony!” he half-whispered. “Snap out of it!”

Sam was bent over Peter, pressing some sort of cloth he must’ve brought with him against his abdomen. Peter didn’t even stir. 

“Right, sorry,” Tony murmured, before clearing his throat and saying, “We need to get him out of here. Rhodey-”

But before he could continue, FRIDAY suddenly put his helmet back up, just in time to deflect a round of bullets from hitting his head. Tony immediately said, “FRIDAY? Unlock 17A.”

“Wilson! Out of the way!” he yelled, and Sam thankfully got the message and jumped out from beside Peter just as there was a loud crashing noise, and the small piece of tech latched onto Peter, immediately covering everything but his hands. 

“Why isn’t it completely covering him?” Tony said, holding up his repulsor and shooting at the direction that he was just fired on from. Unfortunately, EDITH was too good even for FRIDAY, so it was unlikely his AI would be able to help in showing him where the drones were unless Klum uncloaked them. So his beam just grazed the far wall. 

“His hands are bound with vibranium handcuffs,” FRIDAY replied, and Tony quickly turned Peter over, trying not to jostle him too much. When his stomach, covered by the suit hit the ground, Peter let out a tiny groan. 

“Sorry, kid,” Tony muttered, holding his hand next to the lock of the cuffs as small tools from Tony’s suit made their way into the lock, turning the mechanisms inside. After a moment, the lock clicked and Tony quickly pulled the handcuffs away from Peter’s wrists, the rest of the Iron Spider suit finally able to cover his hands. 

He was about to turn to Rhodey, who was currently blasting apart a droid, to have him carry Peter (as much as Tony wanted to do it himself, he knew that with one arm he would only jostle Peter around too much), but then the firing on them stopped. Clint looked around in confusion as he lowered his bow, blood dripping down his arm from what looked like a grazed bullet. Sam rolled to the ground from where he had just smashed apart one of the drones with his shield. Rhodey and Pepper stood back to back, their arms raised up as they looked around warily. 

“Hello, Stark. Long time no see,” came a voice, and then Klum stepped out of a door on the second level of the room. He held out his arms and grinned, with a coldness in his expression. “It’s really not that nice to see you again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: graphic depictions of violence, vomiting
> 
> Okay, first of all, I'm so so so sad about Chadwick:( He was a superhero both on the screen and in real life, and he was truly an inspiration to so many kiddos who finally saw a superhero who looked like them as the main character (we also stan anthony mackie and don cheadle and all the other wonderful black actors and actresses in these films). RIP Chadwick
> 
> I promise I'll be as fast as I can with writing & uploading this next chapter - I'm hoping for a week max! Thank you for reading, and leave a comment if you'd like:) <3


	31. Discovered: Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW are at the bottom!

“Klum,” Tony said, carefully stepping to put Peter’s still form behind him. “Let’s skip the pleasantries. You hurt  _ my kid, _ ” he finished with a growl.

He held up his repulsor gun and was about to shoot, but then Klum called out, “I would wait a moment, Stark. As you know, my drones are cloaked, but I can lift that for a moment.”

And then white bots were coming to life in the room, more than Tony would’ve guessed based on the ammunition that was laid on them earlier.  _ It  _ is  _ a trap,  _ he thought to himself. Because there were five drones all surrounding Peter from the other side of Tony, but miniguns weren’t trained on him (Tony wouldn’t have to worry about those now that Peter had the suit). There were blasters and lasers on him, and if all of those fired at once, especially in one spot on Peter’s already damaged stomach, then his kid would be toast. Tony lowered his repulsor.

“Ah,” Klum said as he walked closer to them so that he was directly above them. Even from this far away, Tony could see an angry glint in his eyes. “So you’ll listen to me first after all?   


He didn’t say anything, but he glared up at Klum. “I can’t believe I made Tony Stark hold his tongue,” Klum mused. “I don’t know if that has ever been done before. I guess all I needed was to threaten some kid-”

“Enough,” Sam said. “What do you want?”

“What do I want? It’s not about what I want,” Klum said. He gestured to his sides. “It’s about what  _ we  _ want.”

“There’s nobody next to you,” Clint said, and the way that he looked at Tony meant that he was only saying that to assure the rest of the team that indeed, Klum was the only person in the room.

“The collective we. It’s all of us, all of us who put this together from day one. Day one being when you fired us, Stark,” Klum said. “But I won’t be revealing who these people are, as that’s not what they want. Their recognition comes from my success.”

“So what do “we” want?” Tony asked, making air quotations with his hand. 

“To make you pay,” Klum said. “You get what’s coming for you, and we succeed. Everyone will know the name “Mysterio,” and “Iron Man” will be just a faded memory.”

“This guys crazy,” Sam said lowly, and Klum grinned. 

“You’re not going to win,” Tony said, glancing at Peter’s still form out of the corner of his eye. “Nobody will believe that you’re good, and if you think you can kill us and that’ll erase you’re little murder attempt on my kid and probably us, then you’re wrong. Because nobody messes with my family and gets away with it.”

Tony felt fire burning through his veins, but Klum just laughed. “Stark, that’s where you’re wrong. Your technology will be your own downfall. FRIDAY is no match for EDITH. We both know that. I’m afraid you’ll find that my drones have been holding back. As you die, I want you to remember my face. That’s the only face the world will now know.” 

Klum whispered something, before hundreds of drones, more than had been in the room originally, appeared at once, and then disappeared before they could be taken down. There was a tense moment, before shots began firing in every direction, green smoke filled the room, and then the room erupted into chaos.

Tony jumped out of the way, wincing when landing as a laser came directly toward him. He shot in its direction and a drone exploded. He looked behind him, to make sure Peter was okay, but he was somehow turned around and Peter was nowhere to be seen. He squinted out into the green fog, but he was isolated, nobody to be seen in any direction. He tried to fly up, but he was immediately stopped by four lasers, all coming down towards him at the same time, forcing him to dive out of the way. He glared up at them. He had a feeling that Klum was trying to keep him from getting off the ground. 

“Hey,” he called into his com, “does anyone see Peter?”

FRIDAY’s voice came on. “Sorry boss. There’s something blocking the intercommunication system.”

_ Well, fuck.  _ He was completely alone. 

***

Peter had never been in so much pain. He let out a moan as the comforting pull of sleep disappeared and was replaced with his entire torso feeling like it had gone through a blender. His hands were numb and his ankle was on fire and he was in so much  _ pain.  _

Distantly, he heard someone shouting and bullets ricocheting. He struggled and finally was able to open his eyes. Through his blurred vision, he first noticed that it was a lot more focused than when he had been awake last, and after a moment he noticed the feeling of cool metal on his face and the freeness of his hands even though he couldn’t really feel them. His eyes widened. Somehow, he was in the Iron Spider suit. 

Everything flooded back to him. He remembered coming into the room before Klum found him and made everything around him change as if he were in a nightmare. Then he had been falling, falling way farther than he should’ve and didn’t catch himself. And then, the sound of clicking. He took a deep breath, and let out a gasp as his torso exploded with pain. There was definitely something wrong with him.

“Karen?” he whispered, his throat raw. “What’s going on?”

“Peter,” she said, and there seemed to be relief in her voice. “Mr. Stark, Ms. Potts, Mr. Wilson, Mr. Barton, and Colonel Rhodes came to find you. Then Francis Klum led an attack against them using weaponized drones.”

“They came to rescue me?” Peter couldn’t believe it. He was so sure that they weren’t going to find him, that he was going to die there alone with nobody to help him. 

A horrible feeling came to his chest, making his heart pound. “Karen, I have to stop him! Klum...he’s-he’s got these illusions and…”

“Peter, I detect multiple injuries to your body, many of them life-threatening. I would recommend-”

“They’re not going to stop him in time! I don’t know what he’s trying to do, but attacking Tony isn’t all of it!”

“Peter-”

“Just help me get up! Please!” Despite his voice not rising above a whisper, it still broke. Relief flowed through him as the metal spider legs retracted from his suit, pulling him upward immediately into a standing position. 

The relief was short-lived as his knees immediately buckled as he could almost feel his organs writhing with pain. Peter clenched his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut as the world spun around him, and he tried not to scream. He would not black out. He couldn’t. He had too much he needed to do. After a few painful shaky breaths, he slowly opened his eyes. The world was still spinning, but he was able to take a small step forward, not trusting the spider legs from their placement on his injured shoulder. 

After a few minutes, he made it to one of the smooth concrete walls, where he promptly collapsed against it, remaining on his feet. Nothing had  _ ever  _ been as hard as trying to move was right now. He looked out behind him. The entire floor was encased in a smoky green fog. 

Suddenly, his spidey sense tingled. Peter jumped straight up, flinging a web behind him before returning straight to the ground. He bit his lip so hard it started bleeding as every injury in his body screamed at him. But behind him, something exploded, and Peter felt a small smile come to his face. 

He had thought that his spidey senses were broken for so long, but they seemed to be working again, even though he had no idea why they would’ve stopped working in the first place. If he had those, his suit, and his web shooters, then maybe,  _ maybe  _ he’d have a chance against Klum.

“Karen, ca-can you get a hold of Tony?”

“The intercommunication system is blocked. I can’t get through,” Karen said, and Peter felt his body shake with anxiety. 

Okay. Okay. He would just have to do this alone, assuming he could even find Klum. Like clockwork, a flash of movement above him caught his attention. Peter whipped his head up, wincing with the sudden movement, but saw the same gray clothing Klum had on earlier. He was up there. 

Peter took a deep breath, biting his lip to keep from crying out. He could do this. He had to get to Klum, no matter what. With that, he placed his hands against the smooth wall and began to climb. 

Trying to climb while nursing multiple bullet wounds, what was probably some internal bleeding, crushed hands that he could barely feel, a bad ankle and shoulder, and a concussion was the definition of a bad idea. If Peter would look up “bad idea” in the dictionary, there would be an image of himself slowly climbing up the wall, each movement almost causing him to black out. He was dizzy. He was extremely nauseous. He was definitely delusional. But above all else, he knew he had to fix this. Because it was his fault to begin with. So he gritted his teeth, blinked to get the tears out of his eyes, and continued to climb, because  _ what else could he do? _

Behind him as he climbed, he could hear faint sounds of someone grunting and then clanging of metal hitting the ground. He forced himself to stay focused on the task ahead, because one wrong movement, one misplaced hand could cause him to slip, and in his condition? He didn’t know if he could survive the fall. 

Finally... _ finally  _ he made it to the catwalk, his arms shaking with strain as he pulled himself onto the patterned metal. He hit his stomach wrong, and he bit his lip, pushing down a sob as he slowly got to his knees.  _ Don’t pass out don’t pass out,  _ he thought, forcing down a wave of nausea. After a moment of panting on his knees, he asked, “Karen? Can you help me-”

Immediately the spider legs came out again and pulled Peter to his feet, and this time he braced himself for the sharp pull on his back. It didn’t help the blinding pain that came from it, but at least he was prepared for it. 

“Where did he go, Karen?” Peter asked, wheezing as he saw black spots dance across his vision.  _ Not good.  _

His AI must’ve known better than to argue with him about stopping, because she began instructing him. Peter slowly began to walk down the catwalk and towards the door on the other side. He cast one glance down at the pit below him, where he could hear the firing of repulsors, and he silently thought,  _ I’m sorry, Tony.  _ Peter had gotten himself into this mess. It was his job to fix it. And he was going to make things right and stop Klum, no matter the cost. He took a ragged breath and opened the door, and began to slowly make his way down the hall to Klum.

_ No matter what.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Graphic depictions of injuries and/or violence
> 
> Sorry this chapter is so short! I just really wanted to get it out there since I had a nice (haha not really) place to end it. Thank you so much for reading! Leave a comment and/or kudos if you'd like, and I'll see you soon! Don't worry, Peter still has a lot of pain to come;)
> 
> Edit 9/19 - I've had a lot going on the past week, so it might be a few more days before I can get chapter 32 out! Thanks for your patience! - I'm trying not to rush this part and pacing can be a bitch to figure out sometimes:)


	32. The Fight - Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please check the TW at the bottom if you need to!

Karen led him down the hallway, her soft voice and the distant firing of machine guns the only sounds filling his ears. There was no air movement; it was like someone had closed the door to the hallway and turned off the A/C, leaving it like that for days. 

Each breath that he took was painful. There were black spots permanently embedded in his vision. But Peter couldn’t give up now; he was so close! Finally, a second door at the end of the hall was in view, an emergency exit door that he really hoped wouldn’t set off an alarm. He touched the handle tentatively and gave it a small push, flinching in preparation. He let out a small breath, immediately regretting the action as he pushed open the door further, hit by a breeze as he stepped out onto what looked like a fire escape. Why Klum came out this way, Peter didn’t know, but Karen had insisted that he hadn’t run down any of the branching hallways or stairs leading downward, but out here.

The moon illuminated the rusted metal stairs heading down the side building. As he started to step down, Karen said, “Not that way, Peter. I detect that there’s uncloaked drones waiting at the bottom.”

“Where is he now, Karen?” Peter asked, frowning. He looked out into the night. From what he could see, he must’ve been at some sort of facilities building. If he looked down, he could see an entrance to the subway and an empty parking lot in the opposite direction. 

“I was able to track him using security cameras inside the facility, but I can’t access anything out here. Sorry, Peter.”

“Shit,” Peter wheezed, gripping the railing of the fire escape. He allowed himself a few seconds of leaning against it, momentarily taking some strain off his body, before pushing himself back up straight. 

If he couldn’t go down, he’d just have to go up and around. He might also get a better view point from on top of the building as well, and maybe he would even be able to spot Klum from up there. Peter gritted his teeth. Climbing hadn’t been easy ten minutes ago, and he knew that his health was getting worse and worse by the second; he could barely focus his vision at this point.

But he needed to succeed. And so that meant climbing this wall. Peter placed his palms against the wall, taking a deep breath, before immediately spasming into a coughing fit. The coughs wracked his body, making it convulse grotesquely. He retracted his helmet, and on his next cough the ground in front of him splattered with blood. 

Peter leaned over, hands on his knees for a moment as he tried to control his breathing again.  _ Just breathe,  _ he thought to himself, avoiding looking at the spot on the ground in front of him.  _ Just hold out a little longer.  _

“Tony…” he gasped, placing his hands back on the wall. 

“I still can’t get through to him,” Karen replied softly. Peter didn’t say anything but jerked his head, hoping his AI could read his body language. “You could wait for him, although I wouldn’t suggest sending up your flare as it would alert Klum of your location.”

He shook his head quickly before starting to climb, moving each arm and leg up painstakingly slow. His vision swirled around him when he was halfway up, and he could barely feel his whole body, as if it were going numb beneath him. By the time he got to the top, his entire body was shaking. He felt like he was on fire, every move burning him hotter and hotter.

“Karen?” he whispered, his voice as loud as he could make it. Thankfully, she got the message and shot out the spider legs, gripping onto the top of the building above him and pulling his body up. He collapsed onto his knees when his legs wouldn’t hold his weight beneath him. He barely felt the dull pain that came with the sudden movement, and when he fell forward onto his stomach, nothing screamed out at him either. As his vision danced, slowly fading to black, he had never felt so peaceful. 

_ Get up.  _ Peter’s eyes shot open and he looked around him. But there was nobody there.  _ Get to your feet, kid. _ Peter’s eyes widened as he realized it was Tony’s voice, but it was like it was vibrating within him, coming from his chest and circling in his ears.  _ You’re really going to let a few bullets take you down?  _

_ No,  _ he thought back, his vision focusing as he felt adrenaline run through his body again. He pushed himself up to his knees and then to his feet, let out a strangled cry as the pain seemed heightened again.  _ I can’t go out, not yet.  _

Peter scanned the city below him, now able to see a little more from his heightened visual field.  _ There,  _ he thought, a small movement a few buildings over catching his attention. There was a figure moving along the top of a building, and Peter felt his spidey-senses thrum.  _ Klum.  _

“Okay,” he breathed, grunting as he lifted up his arm. “Can you help-”

His monitor displayed a trajectory to the next building and despite all the pain, Peter smiled. “Thank you, Karen.”

_ This isn’t going to feel good,  _ he thought, a muffled cry escaping his mouth as he swung to the next building over. By the time he made it to the building next to the one Klum was on, tears were running down his face beneath his mask, the strain on his dislocated shoulder too much even for him. 

Peter silently darted to hide behind a smokestack and peered to look over at the building top in front of him. But Klum wasn’t anywhere to be seen. 

_ Where did he go?  _ Peter thought to himself, moving his head a little more from behind the pillar.  _ He couldn’t have just disappeared- _

Something slammed into him from behind, and Peter was forced to his knees, screaming out from the impact. He blinked and looked up at a figure walking towards him, letting out a cough that sent blood down the inside of his suit. 

“So you’re alive,” Klum said with his arms crossed in front of him. A few drones appeared behind Klum, one that must’ve been what knocked Peter down flew out to join the others. “If you knew what was good for you, you should’ve stayed put. I’m afraid you won’t have the same luck you did earlier.”

And then Klum faded away, and twenty drones became uncloaked in his place.  _ A hologram,  _ Peter realized. If Klum wasn’t in front of him, he could be anywhere by now. But that wasn’t even the worst part. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see massive storm clouds gathering nearby, as if a hurricane was about to sweep through New York City. Lighting crackled through the sky, and giant stumps began forming in the harbor. A huge crash caused the entire building beneath Peter to shake. A giant claw, made out of water with lighting swirling inside smashed into the dock, causing the New Yorkers still out at this time to scatter, their screams echoing between the buildings. 

His attention was reeled back to the drones in front of him as all at once, bullets started raining down. A loud roar came from his left, and Peter had never felt so hopeless. While he knew that it wasn’t real, the hologram was obviously doing catastrophic damage from the sirens already headed their way and the loud crashing sounds of rubble flying in every direction. 

Peter flipped backwards as bullets hit the ground at his feet, before staring at the onslaught of drones above him. What was he supposed to do? He could feel the thrill of adrenaline inside him, the only thing keeping him on his feet. How could Peter Parker, an anxiety-ridden, depressed, and half-starved teenager stop this? He didn’t have an answer, but he had to try. Peter aimed his arm upwards and shot out a web.

***

“FRIDAY!” Tony grunted as he flew into a wall. The dimensions of the room seemed to constantly change, although he knew that the bots were just projecting illusions to disorient him. He lifted his arm and hit a drone, ducking as another rocket launched his way. “Where’s Peter? Can you track him at all?”

Once again he tried to fly up to get a better view of the floor, as there was still the swirling green smoke around him. It must’ve been ten minutes, maybe even fifteen since he’d last seen Peter. And with every minute that passed, every minute he spent trying to blast invisible robots that seemed to move out of the way at the last second, his heart kept racing faster. He knew he was beginning to get sloppy, but his brain was so focused on finding Peter that he could barely concentrate on keeping himself from getting sliced in half. 

“I can’t track 17A’s signal,” FRIDAY said miserably.

“Shit,” he muttered, ducking as another rocket was launched right at his head. It was irritating how smart EDITH was. Even though he designed the drones, he still marveled at how they seemed to know to aim at the weak points in his suit where there wasn’t as much protection, like the helmet and the center patch itself where the nanobots came from. Even though it was very well protected, a few good blasts to it would have Tony majorly fucked. 

“Okay, get me up there. And don’t stop if there’s drones in the way.”

“Boss-”

“Just do it, FRI,” he said, gritting his teeth. He braced himself as he was launched upwards. He had almost made it, he was almost in the clear when a laser came out of nowhere, directly into his path. If he flew into it then he was toast. But he knew this might be his one chance, so he just prayed to nano-bot god that they would hold as he-

Then the drone was exploding in front of him, and he felt a sharp smack to his side. “You’re an idiot, Stark!” Sam’s voice called, and Tony saw a figure for a brief second as he fell back to the floor. 

“What was that for?” he called out, glaring down into the fog. But he just heard a chuckle and a “you’re welcome!” before Sam’s voice disappeared again. 

Tony looked around. He was above the fog now, as it stopped where the catwalk was planted on the second floor. Klum must’ve been pretty confident that he would be able to keep them down there, but he didn’t account for Tony’s stupid self-sacrificial way of doing things. With a small grin that quickly disappeared upon realizing that Peter wasn’t up here either, Tony landed on the catwalk. 

The air was stale and dark, so Tony turned on his gauntlet’s flashlight to see better. He swallowed thickly. “FRIDAY?” he asked, looking down at the grated metal under his feet. “Can you get a better signal now that we’re not in that fog?”

He waited a tense moment and sagged with relief as FRIDAY said, “Got it. Now tracking 17A. Head down towards the door at the end of this floor.”

Tony nodded as he began to follow her directions. Once he found his kid (again), he was never letting him out of his sight.

***

“Dammit!” Peter grunted as he rolled out of the way, a huge hole in the building’s roof below him. The drones didn’t seem set on disorienting him, not like before, as they weren’t using holograms. Instead they were cloaked, throwing all the firepower they could at him. He jumped to the side as a laser cut a slash in the cement below him. All he could do for the moment was play a dangerous game of cat and mouse, where he could dodge the attacks but every measure of offense was marked useless by his incapability to see his enemies. It was hopeless.

If only he had been successful in his attempt to sneak up on Klum. If only he hadn’t fallen for the holo-Klum that was now long gone, replaced by the invisible battalion of drones all trying to kill him. Then he could’ve had the element of surprise. But Klum knew where he was, knew he was alive, and Peter didn’t know where the fuck Klum could’ve gone. 

“Karen?” he wheezed, landing heavily on his feet after dodging another attack.  _ That didn’t feel good.  _ “Where-” Peter was cut off as he ducked underneath another laser. “I need to get out of here!” 

For a long second, in which Peter was leaping up and over another slew of bullets, Karen was silent. “Calculating optimal escape route,” she said, and Peter had to refrain from letting out a sigh of relief at the dots that appeared on his monitor. “Peter,” Karen continued as he took a step forward, “I can’t see where the cloaked drones are, but this is the fastest route to the hologram.”

Peter bit his lip, studying his monitor as he jumped up to throw off the drones’ aim. While his current strategy of moving semi-chaotically and dodging attacks was working at the moment, as soon as he headed towards the hologram the drones would make him an easy target. 

“Wait,” Peter said, his mouth quirking up. “Taser-web.” 

Peter looked up at the blank space in front of him. He waited a moment, and when shooting started, he flicked his wrist. Immediately, the machine in front of him became uncloaked, electricity crackling off of it before it exploded. 

For a moment, nothing moved, almost as if all of the shots had been coming out of a single drone. But then bullets exploded around him, a few bouncing off of his suit as he tried to jump out of the way. For the next few minutes, he felt as though his body was moving without him, dodging the attacks as he shot taser-web after taser-web. It wasn’t his spidey-sense; he was missing too many of the shots for it to be his instincts. But it was like he was watching his body from the outside, isolated from the burns and aches and all the pain he was in.

He blinked and there were at least twenty drones on the ground, shells of what they once were. All of his pain came back to him; he was panting and his lungs were on fire. His whole body was on fire. He retracted his helmet as a cough came up, and the ground in front of him splattered with blood. 

Peter retracted the suit from his hand and wiped at his mouth with his limp hand. “Okay, Karen. Take me to the holo-”

Pain exploded in the side of his head. It was worse than smashing it against walls, worse than the overstimulation from his probable concussion. Peter spun around to see one drone, uncloaked, its gun smoking. He lifted his hand and shot a taser-web, electrocuting it, but the damage was already done. He touched the side of his head, and it came back painted red.

His vision blurred around him. Everything was turning on its side, and there was blood pouring from his head onto the ground next to him. He felt his breathing get even more shallow and rapid, and he began to sway, but before he could hit the ground the spider legs came out and held him there. His body was limp, like a rag doll under the legs.

“Peter,” Karen said, her soft voice so close in his ear but sounding so far away. “I put back up your helmet, but you need to stop the bleeding.”

_ How?  _ he wanted to scream, but his voice wouldn’t work. He had never felt so nauseous. 

His helmet came back down, and Peter immediately retched onto the ground in front of him, but the only thing that came up was more blood. Another series of coughs spasmed through his body, even more blood than what Peter thought was possible joining the liquid already in front of him. 

“Mr. Stark included a liquid bandage to your web shooters,” his AI said, and Peter frowned. Why did he need a bandage? 

The legs were still out, and as long as he ignored the completely agonizing pain in his entire body, it was almost peaceful. The moon was high, the air was cool and soft on his face. He felt his eyes close, and he couldn’t wait for sleep to claim him.

His eyes flew open as the cement beneath him was getting  _ very  _ close to his face before he was being jerked back up again by the spider legs. He let out a groan. Why wasn’t Karen letting him sleep? He was tired, so...so tired.

“Peter, you need to lift your arm up and stop the bleeding,” she said, her voice more insistent. His eyebrows furrowed. Lift his arm where?

“Please put your hand on top of your head,” Karen said, almost sounding as if she were on the verge of tears. Now he felt bad. He couldn’t sleep if Karen was unhappy. 

It felt as if he were lifting a ton of bricks, but he managed to put his hand on his head. There was a soft sound, as if silly-string was being sprayed, and then a cool sensation on his head. He let his arm drop back to his side. 

After a few silent moments, the fuzziness in his head cleared a little bit. “Thanks,” he rasped as he retracted the spider legs, forcing himself to stand upright. 

“You’re welcome, Peter. I would recommend staying where you are and-”

“Take me to the hologram,” he said, forcing his legs to step forward. “Take me to Klum.”

Karen didn’t respond, but instead showed a dotted path on his monitor. Peter stuck out his arm, shooting a web to the next building.

***

Peter was getting déjà vu. He crouched down beneath the edge of the roof, watching the giant hologram tear through the roof of a building, the sounds of screams echoing through the streets. This had to be the biggest hologram Klum had put on yet, and a small part of him was impressed at the magnitude of what was being projected. But the rest of him, the sensible part was terrified and angry, watching as a huge gray arm wrecked his city. 

The monster was taller than any of the skyscrapers, with a face that vaguely looked like Groot, the tree Guardian of the Galaxy, with huge holes for eyes. Rubble and fire had been absorbed into its body, and even though he knew it was only a hologram, it didn’t stop the nervous sweat that collected on Peter’s brow. 

Thankfully, Klum hadn’t noticed him, as he was most likely too busy coordinating the monster with the rest of his team. And who knew how close Klum had to be to the monster to control the drones? Although he couldn’t have gotten very far, there were hundreds, if not thousands, of identical buildings that in itself would have dozens of floors with so many different rooms to hide in. Trying to find Klum would be like trying to find a needle in a haystack. 

“Unless…” Peter said aloud, looking at the hologram. The drones were most likely in neat arrays to hold it together like that. “There’s a magnet.”

If he could do enough damage to the hologram, he would hopefully be able to stop the damage to the city, but also draw out Klum from wherever he was hiding. Maybe he could even stop him. 

He was readying himself to jump closer to the hologram, when Karen suddenly asked, “Peter, are you still trying to find Francis Klum?”

“Do you see him, Karen?”   


“No, but Mr. Stark’s glasses have a radius of one mile. And Mr. Klum would need to be in a place with good visibility, like in a skywalk or-”

“Or on top of a building,” Peter finished, looking upwards. 

“Yes.”

“Can you scan security cameras for the buildings within a mile of here?” Peter asked, frowning at the building next to him. 

“One moment,” Karen answered, and Peter held onto the side of the building heavily as he waited. A few seconds later, she said, “I have his location.”

On his monitor, a building lit up that was a few blocks away, and Peter looked back at the big holographic monster.  _ If I can just get those glasses away from Klum, then I might be able to turn off the drones. _

Peter looked down at the street below him right before he jumped, where a group of citizens were running away from rubble that was flying in their direction, and at the smoke rising out of several crashed cars and destroyed buildings. It was up to him to save them. It was up to him to stop Klum. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: graphic depictions of injuries and/or violence, vomiting
> 
> Sorry this update took so long! As you guys know, I started my college classes this month, and between that, my job, and trying to socialize/make friends I have been pretty busy! So my next few chapters might not be up as quickly as I'd like, but just know that I'm doing my best:)
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! I promise you'll get much more action in the next chapter, but yeah Klum plays dirty so...poor peter. Please leave a comment and kudos if you'd like, and I'll see you all very soon:)


	33. The Fight - Part 2

“How are things looking?” Francis asked, looking out to the partially destroyed building-tops. The hologram was working perfectly; there weren’t any self-righteous spider-kids to stop him anymore, and the pesky Avengers were still being entertained by his illusions back at the base. 

The small, fluttering guilt he felt at what happened to Peter tried to rise up but the intense satisfaction at his plan’s success and the constant anger at Stark quickly burnt it out. He couldn’t let miniscule things like guilt get in his way. Besides, everyone knew that success came with sacrifice. 

“Great,” Janice said through his com. “I think everyone has had enough time to adjust to the hologram.”

“You’re right,” Francis said, smiling as he saw the sequence play right before his superhero-alias was supposed to fly in. “It’s time for Mysterio.”

On cue, the superhero flew in, energy shooting from his hands at the face of the monster. _It’s beautiful,_ Klum thought, watching the hologram fly across the sky. 

“Quick, how are the people reacting?” he asked, staring down at the small New Yorkers below. 

“There’s a few cheers, and the general feeling seems to be relief,” Nancy said, an old Stark intern that was fired for her...provocative behavior. She was out on the streets with the drones, but he had assured her that she wouldn’t be in their path. 

“Any reporters yet?” he asked. 

“No, but I see a few vans beginning to pull up.”

“Good. Keep me updated. We’re witnessing history today,” Klum told his team, scanning the city's destruction. “Not only that, but we’re also the ones making it.”

His team murmured with agreement, and Klum smirked as he watched Mysterio plant another hit on the monster, before the “superhero” was flung backwards from a hit from one of the monster’s long arms. Everything was going according to plan. 

***

 _Klum._ From here, his hiding place the next building over, Peter could see him pacing the rooftop, not dressed as Mysterio, but wearing that gray suit and fishbowl helmet, the glasses nowhere in sight. _Shit,_ Peter thought, _he must be using the helmet to control EDITH. But the glasses would still be close by as a backup, right?_

He could hear Klum speaking into his helmet, and he had ten drones surrounding him. If Peter looked to his left, the hologram monster was smashing into the side of a church, the fire in its body glowing in the blackness of the night. After a second, a new hologram was flying in, but this time the illusion of a hero: Mysterio. Peter watched as Mysterio shot out green energy at the face of the monster, before rebounding back after a swipe from the monster’s claw. He grimaced at the sight. He had hoped he would have been able to get the glasses before Klum sent in Mysterio.

Peter turned his attention back to the drones. _Eleven to one_. He’d had worse odds. But he also knew that those odds could get much worse if Klum called any sort of backup. 

“Okay, Karen. I need to sneak up on him somehow. Any suggestions? Preferably ones that don’t add more bullet holes to my stomach.”

“There’s a roof entrance to the building. I would not recommend taking this entrance, as it would put you at a vulnerable position.”

“Are there any other ways up to the roof?”

“A fire escape on the west side of the building.”

“Thanks Karen,” Peter said, and he spotted the fire escape on Klum’s building that she was talking about. Gritting his teeth, he held up his arm, shooting a web on the bottom of the third-floor platform of the escape.

He suppressed a cry as he swung underneath, landing on bottom of the escape with a quiet _ping._ He crawled over the rails, keeping an eye on the roof above him. Slowly, he crawled up the stairs on his hands and knees, making sure to stay below the visibility of the roof.

 _Okay,_ Peter thought, peering ahead over the roof. _Klum’s still there._

He steeled himself, taking a moment to steady his panting breaths and focused on the ground in front of him, trying to make it sway less. Then, he finished crawling up the stairs, until he was at the top of the building. Klum’s back was to him. 

Peter hadn’t been in this position in a long time, where he was sneaking up on who he was fighting. Usually, something would happen to alert them to his presence, but this time, _he_ was the one with the element of surprise. If it wouldn’t hurt so much, he might’ve smiled. 

_All I need is to get him with a taser web. One web to his back and it should bring him down._

He held up his arm, pointing it at Klum’s back, and he fired. But his vision must’ve been worse than he thought, because his aim was off, worse than it had been when he was first trying out his webshooters. It hit a drone to the right of Klum’s figure. _Klunk!_ The drone came crashing to the ground. Lightning fast, Klum whipped around, and then Peter saw more drones coming up to the roof to join him. 

“You should be dead,” Klum muttered, an angry gleam in his eyes. A few buildings away, Peter heard a loud roar as the monster tore through another building. If he didn’t hurry up and get the glasses from Klum, there wasn’t going to be a New York City to save. 

“You’re right,” Peter whispered, and before the flash of surprise that came across Klum’s face could disappear, Peter jumped forward with all he had, aiming at Klum again with his taser webs. 

Another drone quickly flew into the line of fire, exploding in front of Peter. Klum narrowed his eyes, looking Peter up and down. Even though he had his Spider-Man suit on, he felt as though Klum could see every bullet hole, every bruise that he had gotten, and Klum smiled coldly. 

“You’re just about half-dead at this point, aren’t you? Neither of your two shots would have hit me.”

Peter felt chills run down his spine, and he could feel himself shaking. The whole world felt like it was tipping, and it took all of his strength just to stay on his feet. He still had the nauseating pain coming from every part of his body, but at this point, he could barely feel it. 

“Just...just give me the glasses,” Peter gasped, his breathing getting shallower by the second. 

Klum pulled out the glasses, his cold smile leaving his face. “You want these? Come and get them.”

The drones arranged themselves in front of Klum, and then everything began to disappear; his world was turned dark, and green mist pooled at his feet. For a split second, Peter felt fear spike through his veins, gripping at his heart. But then, it occurred to him _, I might as well not open my eyes._

So he closed his eyes, praying that his spidey-senses would decide to work again. And then he was jumping, somehow finding the energy to flip over and shoot drone after drone, each of them becoming uncloaked as he destroyed them before they could disorient him with their illusions. A few times, he knew he had some close calls, but he refused to open his eyes.

After a minute, his senses died down, and he opened his eyes, his mouth dropping slightly at the countless destroyed robots on the ground, every single one that Klum had called demolished. He could still hear the roar of the hologram behind him, but his vision was focused instead on Klum on the ground, who must’ve gotten hit by one of the hundreds of shots fired off in the past minute. He was clutching his stomach, a glassy look in his eyes. Peter put down his mask, staring down at the man he once looked up to. His former friend. 

“Klum...you-you lied to me. I trusted you,” he said, all of his energy leaving him at once. 

Klum didn’t answer. He was unnaturally still. Peter felt bile rising in his throat. _Is...is he dead?_ Peter thought, not daring to move. 

“Peter!” Peter whipped his head around, stumbling a few steps to face the very familiar voice that had just called out to him. The door to the roof was open, and _Tony_ was there in his Iron Man suit, the helmet retracted. His armor looked a little beat up, but Tony’s face was normal, the scars and all, with that worried look he always had in his eyes. And he was walking towards Peter, relief on his face. 

“Thank god you’re okay,” Tony said, stopping right in front of Peter. He smiled at Peter, and Peter felt tears well up in his eyes. 

“T-Tony?” he mumbled weakly, but he took an apprehensive step back. _Tony was right there._ The person he had been so angry at, the person who was now his family. Tony had been the person Peter had thought about every second that he was being held by Klum. And now he was _here._ But as much as Peter wanted this to be his reality, his spidey-sense was screaming at him. Peter felt tears slip out of his eyes as he held out his hand and grabbed the arm behind him. Tony disappeared, and the sound of a gunshot echoed across the roof. 

A sharp stab of pain on his ear made him hiss, and he could feel blood drizzling down the side of it. Thankfully, upon feeling the spot with his fingers, it was only a nick, and not a direct shot to his head like Klum had intended. 

Klum collapsed to the ground behind him, the glasses on his face, and Peter quickly took them as Klum made no attempt to fight him off. Peter looked down at him, and saw the growing spread of red across his torso. So he _had_ been hit. 

“You can’t trick me anymore,” Peter said, putting the glasses on his face. Klum didn’t respond, his eyes glassy like the hologram had been.

“EDITH, turn off the drones,” Peter whispered, and he could hear Klum’s raspy breathing begin to slow down. 

“Welcome back, Peter,” EDITH said, and Peter felt himself sag with relief. He hadn’t been sure that he would still be able to work the glasses. “Should I execute all cancellation protocols?”

Peter heard the sound of a roar in the background, and he quickly said, “Yes!”

“Confirmed,” EDITH replied, and Peter turned toward the monster and watched as the hologram disappeared, and the drones all slowly began to fly upwards, up to where Peter remembered a Stark Industries satellite was.

All the energy immediately left his body, and he collapsed on his knees next to Klum’s body. “Thank you,” he whispered, and he put down his arms in front of him to support his weight. Now that his adrenaline was leaving, the pain was returning, and Peter felt breathing get shallower, just like Klum’s, and his vision started to blur. 

“I...I don’t think either….of us….will get out...of this,” Klum rasped, his eyes looking up blankly at the sky. 

“How...how could you do all this?” Peter asked, his nausea from earlier coming back as dark spots began clouding his eyes.

But when his vision focused enough for him to see Klum’s figure again, it was still. 

“Is he...is this real?” Peter breathed, as the world swayed around him. 

“All illusions are down,” EDITH replied, and Peter nodded mutely, his gaze fixed on a spot on the floor in front of him. 

“Can I send up your flare now, Peter?” Karen asked anxiously, although her voice sounded like it was getting farther and farther away. 

He tried to reply, but the ground was approaching and Peter felt the heavy pull of unconsciousness. He could finally rest. 

***

Tony felt his heart pounding as they got closer and closer to Peter’s location. Karen’s sensors in the suit were off the charts, warning sounds coming from what seemed like every area of Peter's body. 

“FRIDAY we need to go faster,” he said, urging his suit to speed up as he flew down the hallway.

“Boss, you need to wait, or else you’ll run through the door. Any unnecessary damage to the suit is not advised.”

Tony gritted his teeth but didn’t argue, and sure enough, a few seconds later he came upon the emergency exit door. He landed and quickly opened the door, stepping out onto the fire escape. Immediately, his attention was drawn to the giant monster terrorizing the city, but FRIDAY showed him the configuration of drones on the monitor, tightly aligned to keep it together. 

“Okay FRI, where’s my kid?” he asked, looking past the monster for now. That could wait. Peter was way more important. 

“He’s on a rooftop a few buildings over. Would you like me to take you there, boss?”

“Let’s go,” Tony said, and his propulsors took off. 

As soon as he approached the building, however, he was hit by an onslaught of drones, one after the other, all shooting their lasers and heavy artillery at him. He was forced to dive down to avoid them, cursing all the way to the ground. 

Tony glared up at the drones above him, the ones that were now disappearing as the illusion came back. Distantly, he could still hear the roar of the monster, but that was his only tie to reality. Everything else had faded away to darkness; the green mist was back, pooling at his feet once again and stretching its tendrils up his legs.

Tony dove out of the way as bullets hit the pavement beneath him. What the fuck was he supposed to do? Every second that he was wasting dodging attacks from _his own_ drones was a second that Peter was who knows where, with critical injuries, most likely not just waiting for Tony to come and find him. Because Peter was like him, sporting the same hero complex, and he would be trying to stop Klum even if he were half-dead.

“FRIDAY!” Tony grunted after shooting out at another drone. “Can you still find Peter?”

“No, boss. I think the drones are playing interference again.”

“Shit,” Tony muttered, firing a smart missile. Just as all the others, it missed, EDITH’s abilities able to hide the drones even from that. He shot his repulsors and spun in a circle, managing to take down a few of the slower drones. But it seemed as if he weren’t even making a dent, and so he continued, shooting as many as possible all while trying to get up higher. 

If Klum had his kid again, he was going to make him pay. He already wanted Klum to take a repulsor right in the face, but now…. _he was going to rip the man ap-_

Suddenly, he was on the ground, even though he had been up in the air a second ago, and without the suit he would’ve cracked his head open. Instead, there was an unpleasant smack against the ground, but he didn’t seem to have broken anything. Tony got up quickly and attempted to take off again, but he couldn’t get into the air. 

“FRI? What’s going on?” he asked, his propolsers useless. 

“The...mechanism...hit,” FRIDAY said, her voice cutting in and out. He looked down at the front of his suit, and the center of his chest, where the energy that powered the nanobots came from was hit, flashing on and off. He could feel his armor start to fall off in chunks, the nanobots failing to stay together. 

“How long until an all system fail? I need you to call in 34C,” Tony grunted as he jumped out of the way of a blast. His AI didn’t respond, instead making a series of beeping noises as countless warnings flared up on his monitor. However, the only ones that stuck out to him were the ones cutting in and out as his connection failed, the ones coming from 17A. According to Karen, Peter wasn’t getting any better, but instead seemed to be getting _more_ injuries.

_Of fucking course he his,_ Tony thought as more pieces of armor began to fall when he stepped to the side to blast toward another drone. But as he tried to blast another drone, his blast cut off too soon, after only a second of firing. Tony attempted to shoot again, but it failed to work at all. 

His new suit should’ve been here by now. That meant that all his connection was severed and he was on the last bit of life that his suit had. In one last desperate attempt to take anything out at all and to get out of there to find Peter manually, he ran towards the side and tried to blast one of his missile launchers. It failed to even come out of his suit at all, and as he ran to the right, bullets began to rain down, causing him to dive the other way. The last of his nanobots finally began to fall off, and Tony looked upwards to where there were probably at least 20 invisible bots, all ready to kill him. 

_I’m sorry, Peter,_ he thought, still attempting to think of a way out in the last seconds before the bots started firing. 

He winced as shots should’ve started raining down on him, but his eyes widened as drones began to appear, and instead of all flying at him or killing him, they turned back and started heading upwards, towards the satellite they had come from. 

Tony stared open-mouthed upwards at the clear sky, and looked in the direction that the hologram had been. Sure enough, it was already gone, the drones that projected it gone as well. 

He didn’t hesitate as he began to move toward the buildings that FRIDAY had gestured to earlier. He didn’t know which one it was, but he was going to _scour_ those rooftops for days if he had to to find his kid. 

Tony quickly realized that without his suit, he wasn’t going to be able to search the rooftops quickly. The first rooftop alone took him three minutes to get up to, and in the night without his suit, he couldn’t see the other ones well enough from where he was. 

“Come on, kid,” he muttered as he headed back towards the door. “I need you to help me out here.”

Almost like clockwork, a light flashed into the night sky from one of the rooftops. It stayed there, and if Tony squinted he could tell that the light was red. _The beacon,_ he thought, walking as fast as he could with his still-healing injuries in that direction. _Thank god it still works._

He got there five minutes later, five minutes later than he wanted to be. He was afraid the building would be locked, but thankfully Peter was on top of an apartment building. He got an amazed look from a tenant, but Tony pushed past them and had gotten on the elevator, taking it up as far as it could before climbing the rest of the stairs to the roof. 

Tony pushed open the door, his ears ringing as he stepped out onto the cool pavement, the moon directly overhead. With no overhead lighting, he could barely make out the damage, but from the parts he was tripping over, he could tell that a lot of drones hadn’t made it out. In the center right of the roof was the beacon, shining red against the sky’s black tapestry. Tony walked as fast as he could over, kneeling at the side of the source of the light. He pulled his phone out of his pocket, hands shaking as he put on the flashlight. 

The first thing he noticed was the dark stain of blood on the pavement. He felt his heart stop as his eyes traced it back to its source, and he felt a short-lived relief at the fact that it didn’t seem to be coming out of Peter. Tony shone his flashlight down on Peter’s face. 

He was pale. So incredibly pale. There was blood matted in his hair and a white web bandage on one of the sides of his head. Peter’s eyes were closed, and he was still. Someone like Peter should never look that still. 

“Peter?” Tony whispered, his throat rough. He tentatively reached out and tapped Peter on the shoulder. “Wake up for me, kid.”

Peter didn’t flinch. His eyes didn’t twitch. 

“Karen?” Tony said, his voice rising as fear began to run through his veins. “I need vitals. Can you get the rest of the team over here? And get me suit 34A.”

Tony grimaced at Karen’s report. He reached out and gently touched Peter’s cheek. It was cold to the touch. He moved his fingers down to Peter’s neck, and sighed as he felt the slight, very slow beat of his heart. He had to feel for himself that he was at least alive. 

“Peter? If you can hear me, stay with me, kiddo. I’m so sorry,” Tony murmured, standing up as 34A hit his chest, soon encasing his whole body in another suit. He bent down next to Peter again, and was about to pick him up, before he heard the sound of another suit coming towards him. 

Seconds later, Pepper was landing on the roof, running over to where Tony was crouched down, and quickly retracted her helmet.

“Tony,” she said, her face drawn tight as she looked down at Peter. “Is-”

“He’s alive,” Tony said, feeling his body shake. Saying those words should’ve been a relief, but he didn’t know how much longer they would be true. “But barely. I need to get him to a hospital, Pepper. But what are they going to do? I can’t give away his identity.”

She pursed her lips, and said, “We don’t have a choice. Is it safe to move him?”

“Does he have any head or spinal injuries?” Sam asked, coming up to the side of him. Tony didn’t know when all the others had arrived, but he was thankful for at least some sort of backup. 

“Karen?” Tony asked, looking down at the Spider-Man suit.

“Peter has sustained multiple blows to the head, including one he self-patched to stop the bleeding to. I don’t detect any spine damage,” Karen said.

“Is the head injury the most serious one?” Sam asked.

“No. His other injuries are much more severe.”

“Then our best bet is to move him ourselves, and to do it as fast as we can,” Sam said, and Tony nodded. He bent down slightly, before standing up. “I can’t take him. I’ll only make it worse. Rhodey-”

His friend was already there, scooping Peter up. Peter made no response; he was as limp as a rap doll.

“Karen, put his mask up,” Tony said as Rhodey stood up. He held Peter close to his body and nodded back at Tony. 

“We’re going to 489 1st Street.” Rhodey nodded, and he said something to Pepper in a low voice.    


Tony briefly made eye contact with Sam again, looking down at Klum’s still body a few feet away. Sam nodded once, and Tony grimaced in return. They took off, Rhodey in the middle holding Peter tightly as he flew through the sky. Everything inside Tony wanted to scream, and cry, and to personally check to see if Klum was still alive, but Peter was more important. 

Though Peter was unconscious, and even if he were awake he wouldn’t have been able to hear due to the distance between them, Tony murmured, “Be okay, kiddo. For me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh! I'm so sorry this chapter took so long to get up! Hopefully this almost 4000 word chapter will somewhat makeup for it:) College has been a lot of work, and has taken a lot out of me emotionally, which doesn't leave a lot to work with when writing a climax:/ So thank you all so much for your patience! 
> 
> And 20,000 HITS??? AHHH!! Thank you all so much for your support in my story! I never imagined I'd get to a number like that! You guys are truly the best:)
> 
> I'm sorry if in this chapter or any future ones there's any medical inaccuracies - I did my best, but I'm definitely not a doctor, and the person I usually ask my medical questions to was preoccupied when writing this. So let me know in the comments if there's any glaring errors!
> 
> I really hope I can get the next chapter out a little faster than this one, but no guarantees as I'm A LOT busier than I was when I started this - I promise I'm not giving up on this now:)


	34. Waiting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Check TW at the end!

Tony paced up and down the empty hospital waiting room. Multiple nurses had already tried to get him to admit himself into the ER for his own injuries, but he had shaken them off each time. His whole body was trembling, he could feel himself literally radiating nervous energy. For the tenth time in the past minute, Tony checked the time. _5:47 am._ Peter had been in surgery already for four hours, and he hadn’t been given a timeline of how long it would take to fix him. 

When he had placed his kid on the stretcher...and watched the nurses take him away down the hall, where he couldn’t see him, Tony had to physically hold himself back from following the slow moving stretcher, where the wheels were spinning on the smooth floor, rolling him further and further away…

“Tony?” He opened his eyes. He didn’t even realize that they had been closed. Pepper stood at his side, her hands gripping two styrofoam cups of coffee. His eyes focused on the white wall in front of him, and he let his forehead fall against it gently. He inhaled, his breath rattling through his throat. 

“I...I don’t-” Tony shut his mouth, the words getting caught in his throat. 

“Come sit down,” Pepper said, gently taking his left shoulder and pulling him down to the chair. She pushed one of the cups of coffee in his hand, and he gripped it tightly, his hand tense. 

He felt Pepper grip his forearm as she sat down next to him, and he let his eyes shut for a second before focusing blankly on the coffee table with a stack of magazines in front of him. 

“Pep, I don’t know what I’m going to do. I’ve...I’ve never seen him this bad. Even when he fell from a plane, hell, he walked away. But he...he was just limp. I-” 

The lid from the coffee flew off, and Tony felt hot coffee spill onto his jeans. He looked down at his hand, with the black liquid oozing over the sides and onto it. He barely felt the heat. A drop fell from the side, hitting the carpeted floor. Staining it, like blood had stained the top of the roof-

“Take deep breaths.” A voice was whispering in his ear. The coffee cup was being taken from his hand. “You’re okay. I’m here, Tony.”

He leaned his head forward, placing his head on Pepper’s shoulder, who was now sitting in front of him instead of where he remembered her at his side. He felt her fingers come up and stroke his hair, her other arm gently rubbing his back. “You’re okay,” she repeated, and Tony let out a shaky breath. 

After what felt like hours, he lifted his head up and looked her in the eyes. The lines around them softened, and she smiled lightly. “You’re welcome,” she murmured, and he nodded. 

“Listen to me,” Pepper said after a moment of silence, and Tony raised his eyes to meet hers again. They were still soft, but now with a new sternness. “I know that this is hard. It’s hard for me too, Tony, but spiraling isn’t going to help him.”

“I...I know,” Tony mumbled, reaching out and clasping her hand in his. “Thank you. Pep, I-I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

She nodded, keeping a hold of his hand but returning to sit in the chair next to him. She intertwined her fingers in his, and squeezed, before relaxing her hand into a loose grip. Though he was no longer in the deep end of whatever Pepper had pulled him out of, he was on the edge of the cliff, staring down into the abyss. His lungs felt tight in his chest, and his heart was racing. 

_Keep it together for him_. 

***

Time was like a dream, or rather a nightmare. It seemed to move slower and slower as Tony sat there next to Pepper, her hand like a lifeline. Once he got a phone call from Sam, that they had taken care of Klum’s body and that everyone at home was safe. A small part of his stress eased away at knowing that Morgan was okay, but then it was immediately redirected once again to Peter. 

Sometime over the next few hours, Pepper had gotten up, before returning a few minutes later with first aid supplies. He didn’t even flinch as she cleaned up the blood that was on his arms and face from his own injuries. 

“Tony?”

Pepper was standing over him, her face pale. “What? What’s wrong?” His adrenaline spiked again, and he felt his heart beat in his ears. 

“I...let me take you to the bathroom.”

“Okay?” he said, following her as she entered the unisex bathroom, locking the door behind her. 

“Just...just put your hand in the sink,” she said. “Don’t look at them.”

“Why-” Blood. It was stained with blood. Tony stared at his hand frozen inches from the sink, his palm streaked with the dark red fluid. Blood that was supposed to be in Peter and not on his hand. Tony’s eyes trailed down to his shirt and jeans. There was more. But how? He had-

_ Tony ran into the hospital’s main lobby, Rhodey right beside him with the limp teenager in his arms. “I...I need help!” Tony called out, gasping. The receptionist’s eyes got wide as she recognized him, but got even wider at the sight of the limp Spider-Man in Rhodey’s arms. Her mouth stood agape for about two seconds, before she was calling in extra help. _

_ Then a stretcher was being wheeled out, and two nurses were pulling Peter out of Rhodey’s arms. Tony clutched Peter, preventing him from leaving. He couldn’t let him go.  _

_“I-” Tony began to say, but he felt hands on his arm, stopping him from pulling Peter back. Pepper was there._

_“Tony, his identity,” she whispered. His identity? What did that have to do with anything?_

_“Tony, you can’t make a scene about him. Not with everyone around. They’ll find out who he is,” Pepper continued, her words tense in his ear._

_His heart was pounding out of his chest. There was ringing in his ears, making Pepper’s whispers a muddled mess. But he knew she was right. He could feel the stares of the other hospital patients on his back. He gritted his teeth, taking a forceful step back from the stretcher._

_“Mr. Stark?” Tony blinked incomprehensibly at the nurse who was talking to him. “Can you help us get him out of the suit?”_

_“Not here,” Pepper thankfully said, and she was grabbing Tony’s hand, following the stretcher through the doors that said “Emergency Room” above them, into one of the empty rooms. Tony had tunnel vision, not even seeing his surroundings as they brought Peter to a halt and closed the doors behind them._

_“We just need help removing the suit safely, Mr. Stark,” the same nurse said kindly. Tony looked down at his shaking hand, before meeting the man’s eyes and nodding._

_“Karen? Go ahead and disengage.”_

_Immediately, the suit began to reveal Peter, and Tony reached down and grabbed the small spider from the center of Peter’s chest. Before he could let himself scan Peter’s body, Pepper grabbed his hand and spun him around. “If you look, it’ll only make everything worse.”_

_Tony nodded, but glanced over his shoulder, before quickly averting his eyes at the sight of Peter’s blood-soaked shirt. He paled, stumbling after Pepper back down the hall, away from his kid._

“Tony? Tony? Can you hear me?” Pepper’s voice was back, and he could suddenly feel her hands on his face. He opened his eyes, seeing her blue eyes right in front of his. He blinked, and the image of Peter on the table was back, so much blood-

Tony stumbled forward, grasping the sink. He must’ve wiped his hand on his shirt without meaning to, or had brushed Peter when he had leaned over him, because there had been so much blood. So much blood- 

He started to sway, and he felt Pepper’s hand on his arm. “I told you not to look,” she whispered, and he felt his hand being put into the sink, warm water running over it. The water was pink as it went down the drain, and the air smelled a little like rust. So much blood-

His back was hitting the wall, and Pepper was helping him sit down onto the cool tile. He could feel her warm breath on his skin as she sat in front of him, her hand reached out hesitantly at his shoulder. 

“Take a second,” she said, and Tony nodded, taking in one uncertain breath after the other, trying desperately to picture Peter as he usually was, alive and breathing and full of life, and not bloody and limp and lifeless. 

After a few minutes, Tony opened his eyes, and felt Pepper’s hand come up to run through his hair lightly, before coming down and cupping his face. She leaned forward, gently pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Do you want to stay in here longer?” she asked, and he shook his head. 

Her hand was warm and alive in his, and he concentrated on that feeling as he stepped out of the bathroom, following Pepper back to the waiting room. 

As soon as he sat back into one of the chairs, a woman with short red hair was walking towards them. He felt Pepper’s hand in his, and he squeezed tightly, feeling her grip back just as strong.

“Good morning, Mr. Stark and Ms. Potts. My name is Dr. Lisa Eberhart. You’re the guardians of Peter Parker, correct?”

Pepper nodded. Tony examined the woman’s green eyes. There was an intensity to them, but it didn’t seem like there was remorse or pity. His grip on Pepper’s hand relaxed slightly.

“You both can come back to see him if you’d like.”

“Is he okay?” Tony asked, his ears ringing.

“He’s stable,” Dr. Eberhart started. Pepper’s hand moved up and gripped his good shoulder, and Tony felt some of the tension leave his body. “He got out of surgery about two hours ago, and I can give you a full report of his condition when we’re in the room if you’d like.”

“That would be great, thank you,” Pepper replied.

“If you’ll follow me,” Dr. Eberhart said, and Tony and Pepper stood up, beginning to follow her down the endless hallways. Despite the reassurance, Tony knew he wouldn’t relax, couldn’t rest until he knew that Peter was okay. He was finally going to see his kid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: blood, anxiety, PTSD
> 
> Ahhh!! I'm so sorry that it's been so long since I've updated! This past month has been absolutely insane, and I've basically had no downtime between class, homework, work, and spending time with friends. But I finally have a bit of break with Thanksgiving this next week, so I should be able to get back into writing a little more frequently!! 
> 
> Thank you all so so much for your patience and kind comments that you've left so far - we're getting so close to the end now, and I'm so thankful for each and every one of you. I hope that I can get another chapter out before my break is done, so I really hope to see you all in about a week!!


	35. Truth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please read the TW at the bottom as well as the note underneath for important information regarding changes to the story!!!

The door to the room stood between Tony and his kid. Dr. Eberhart had gone inside, instructing Tony and Pepper to take a second and prepare themselves. Although Tony had been previously reassured by the doctor’s eyes, he wasn’t then. They had been soft and pitiful, and though Tony knew that Peter was alive, it didn’t help the intense pounding of his heart as he and Pepper shared a final look before stepping over the threshold and into the room. 

The room seemed impossibly small and suffocating, with a bed that was much too large for the small teen that it held. Peter’s skin was pale against the white sheets, and his whole head seemed swallowed by pillows. There were blankets stacked on top of him, and countless tubes and devices everywhere, all seeming to go to a different part of Peter. 

“Would you like to hear the full extent of Peter's condition?” Dr. Eberhart asked, opening her laptop and looking at Tony. 

“Yes,” Tony said immediately, and he felt Pepper’s hand slip into his. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Pepper’s face was pale, but her expression was firm.

“Starting from the bottom, Peter has fractured his Talus bone in his right ankle, but his legs and feet other than that look pretty good. His right wrist likely has a sprain. Multiple fingers on both hands are broken, and I can give you more specifics later if you’d like. His left wrist has multiple breaks. Based on the way that he was laying on the table, there’s something wrong in his right shoulder, and although we can tell it’s not a break at this point, it’s likely dislocated. There’s four gunshot wounds in his abdomen, and he has three broken ribs. Heavy internal bleeding was found, and his right kidney was punctured, although we were able to save it. His spleen ruptured, but he’ll be able to live without it. There was a gunshot wound on the parietal side of the skull on the right side, and we were able to remove the bullet safely. There was no suspected brain damage from it. However, there was a wound to the back of his head, from suspected blunt force trauma based on his internal bleeding in his abdomen. He most likely has a concussion from that.”

“My god,” Pepper said. She brought her hand up to cover her mouth, and Tony could feel her shaking from next to him, and the soft sniffles that accompanied.

“How-”

“Sorry Mr. Stark, but I haven’t finished yet,” Dr. Eberhart interrupted, and Tony could see unease in the doctor’s expression. “You both might want to take a seat.”

Pepper pulled Tony down next to her, and he felt her iron grip on his shoulder. “What do you mean you aren’t finished?” Tony asked, feeling ice run through his veins. “Didn’t you list all his injuries?”

“Since you both are his parental guardians, I need to inform you of this,” Dr. Eberhart began, her hands clenched in front of her. “Peter is extremely dehydrated and malnourished.”

“He was kidnapped,” Pepper whispered, her voice high in pitch. “So he would be.”

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Potts. This goes back farther than that. Based on urinary and blood tests, Peter must not have been getting adequate amounts of either food or water for weeks, maybe months. You marked that he doesn’t have a history of eating disorders?”   


“No, we didn’t…” Pepper said, but her voice seemed to fade out, because there was one word that Tony was laser focused on. 

“Months…” Tony whispered, the word sour in his mouth. His kid...his kid hadn’t been eating. For months. Peter hadn’t been eating, and Tony hadn’t noticed. There was a painful feeling in Tony’s chest; it had started when Dr. Eberhart had started talking, but now was infinitely worse. It was like he was drowning, but he knew he deserved it. He deserved worse. 

“We can screen him for the main eating disorders after he’s a little more recovered. Now there’s just one more thing,” Dr. Eberhart said, and Tony felt himself being pulled back to the conversation. “When bandaging his head, we noticed that there were patches of his hair missing. At first, we thought it may have been falling out because of stress, or that we’d have to examine the potential for a hair-loss condition. But we think that it’s self-caused. It’s hard to see, but in what must be one of the most recent areas, there’s a scab on the skin, as well as matted blood in his hair nearby. This area is also on the other side of the head of his gunshot wound. While we can’t diagnose anything without a mental screening, I want to recommend that you have a psychologist look into Trichotillomania, a form of OCD. You also didn’t indicate any diagnosed mental disorders?”

Tony didn’t respond, but he was sure Pepper did in some shape or form. His gaze was frozen on the pale teenager on the bed, who had been suffering. He and Pepper hadn’t noticed in time. They had failed him. And now-

“So you both were in the process of figuring that out before he disappeared. Mrs. Potts, you mentioned a healing factor that Peter has earlier, correct? Due to him being Spider-Man?”   


Pepper nodded, and Tony felt his attention once again being jerked back. 

“I’m not sure how accelerated it’s supposed to be, but Peter doesn’t seem to be recovering any faster than the average human.”

“Wait, he’s not healing?” Tony asked, the suffocating feeling crushing his chest. 

“No, he’s healing. Just not faster than the average person. We don’t know for sure why, but if I had to guess it might be because of the lack of sustenance? How much did he eat before all this started?”

Tony thought back to before the snap, back to when it was just him and Peter and sometimes Pepper, ordering pizza and having a Star Wars movie marathon on the weekends when Peter wasn’t busy, which seemed to happen less and less as the school year went on. Peter often ate an entire pizza himself, and would eat some of the smaller pizza that Pepper and Tony had ordered for themselves. 

“He has very fast metabolism.”

Dr. Eberhart pursed her lips, and looked down at Peter. She didn’t have to say it. Peter wasn’t healing because he hadn’t been eating, and he hadn’t been eating because Tony hadn’t been paying enough attention to his kid. His kid was starving himself, and now he was paying the price of Tony’s neglect. 

“What we’re trying to do now is get him as much liquids and nutrients as possible without him being able to eat or drink through a nasogastric tube,” Dr. Eberhart said, gesturing to the small tube that was in Peter’s nose. “If we can get his healing factor working again through nutrition, then he might have a shorter and less painful recovery.”

Dr. Eberhart stood there for a second, silent, and shifted her weight on her feet. “Do either of you have any questions?” she asked. 

‘Do you...do you know when he’ll wake up?” Tony’s voice felt hoarse and grainy, and he could see the pity taking over the doctor’s expression.

“There’s no way to know for sure. A normal patient…” Dr. Eberhart let her voice trail off, before continuing, “We don’t know. With a probable concussion and all the blood loss, it could be a while.” 

She then nodded to Tony and Pepper and began to head toward the exit. “If there’s nothing else, then I’ll be going to see some other patients. If either of you need anything, use the call button. There should be someone in here to check on Peter in about an hour.”

She left, but her words still stuck with Tony.  _ A normal patient… _ The way that her eyes flitted downwards.. The slight pause. A normal patient should be dead. There’s no way that just anyone could survive what Peter went through. 

_ Peter may not survive what he went through _ . As much as Tony wanted to ignore this possibility, from the side of the bed, sitting and holding the cold, limp hand while Pepper headed back home to check on Morgan, it seemed as if it could be true. 

***

79 hours. That’s how long it had been since Peter arrived at the hospital, limp in Rhodey’s arms. But it had been much longer since Tony had last breathed, back before Peter had vanished. 

_ Coma.  _ The word that had been whispered at first, and then told to him outloud a day later. Tony was lost on how he was supposed to feel. He wanted Peter to wake up desperately, because he  _ needed  _ to see those hazel eyes, some sort of sign that he was getting better. Dr. Eberhart could enthusiastically tell Tony all she wanted that Peter was showing signs of improvement, that the blood samples indicated that his malnourishment and dehydration was slowly getting better, that the blood transfusions had worked, but it was as if Tony was climbing a mountain without ever quite reaching the summit - he couldn’t visualize Peter’s progress.

But on the other hand...Peter wasn’t in pain. When he woke, there was no telling what kind of agony he might be in. The kid had gone on and defeated Klum with multiple bullet wounds and a concussion among other injuries - despite his hero complex, Peter did have a limit. And Tony knew that when he woke up he was going to see exactly what that limit was.

He was also selfish. The longer that Peter was asleep, the more time it gave Tony to figure out how the hell he was supposed to talk to the kid about Klum. About the fight and the destruction of New York City (which from what Pepper told him was hundreds of millions of dollars of damage and a few deaths that Peter would feel personally responsible for). About the...the self harm and the eating disorder and his panic attacks, with more of the latter than what he had thought. In his four years of parenting Morgan, he had never had to deal with something this challenging.

Over the past few days Tony found himself with a lot of free time on his hands when he wasn’t taking his shift at home with Morgan. But he couldn’t bring himself to figure out how he would talk to Peter about this. It was naive to think that way, but Tony couldn’t help but wish that Peter would wake up and be okay. Because he didn’t know if he was a good enough parent to help his kid through all this. He had already failed at so much when it came to Peter. Tony couldn’t mess this up too. 

Tony reached out his hand, enclosing the teenager’s pale hand in his, just as he had been doing constantly for the past three days. He gave it a gentle squeeze, about to let go, when he felt his heart leap out of his chest. Peter’s fingers had curled in slightly. It was a small movement, but Tony still felt his mouth curl up for the first time in days. 

But then a small noise came out of his mouth. A little gasp, followed by Peter’s eyelids fluttering. Tony hit the call button, and tentatively whispered, “Peter?”

For a moment his kid was silent; his body was frozen. Then, another gasping noise, louder than the first and more prolonged. Peter’s entire right arm spasmed, coming up a few inches and landing back down by his side. “Peter? Are you okay, kid?” Tony asked, louder this time. 

And then Peter’s eyes opened, but he didn’t focus on Tony. His bright eyes were focused blankly on the ceiling, and Tony felt his body shake as Peter’s face began to contort; his eyes widened and his breathing began to sound strained, and his mouth curled down slightly. A small moan came through Peter’s lips, and Tony found himself being pushed further and further over the threshold of panic. 

“Mr. Stark? Is something-” a nurse began to say, but her eyes widened as they landed on Peter. She looked pale, and rushed out, “Give me one second.”

She walked quickly over to the phone in the corner of the room, listening for a moment before dialing a few numbers. The nurse then spoke for a minute, before hanging up the phone. She turned back around and walked toward the bed.

“I just paged Dr. Eberhart. She should be here in a few minutes,” she said shakily, her voice being the only giveaway of her nerves.“How long has Peter been conscious?”

Tony somehow found the ability to speak, and he said, “Only a minute before I pressed the call button.”   


“Can you tell me what you noticed?”   


“He began to move, but he’s been making these...sounds.” God he wished Pepper were here. She knew how to articulate things better, especially when Tony was on the verge of a panic.

Tony whipped his head back to Peter, whose mouth was still contorted, his eyes fixed on the ceiling above. He was making these small whining sounds, and tears began to streak down his face. The nurse bit her lip, and nodded, turning to the monitors. She took a step closer to the various bags of fluid that were connected to Peter. After examining them and the whiteboard that was hanging on the opposite side of the bed, she frowned. “Peter’s already on morphine. He shouldn’t be in pain.”

At that moment, the door opened, and Tony felt slight relief that Dr. Eberhart was walking through the door. She’d be able to fix Peter. She had to. “Stephanie,” she said, looking at the nurse. “What’s going on?”

“Peter is in at least a partially conscious state,” Stephanie said, walking over to the doctor. “He’s showing signs the medication he’s on isn’t helping.”

Tony felt himself get strung tighter and tighter as Dr. Eberhart and Stephanie talked, looking at the various bags and the whiteboard, seemingly ignoring Peter as his cries seemed to be getting louder and louder. His body was shaking; the bed rails on the side of the bed seemed to be the only thing keeping him from falling off from the motion. His face was scrunched up in the pain, his glassy eyes fixed above him. Although his head was in bandages, there were still tear tracks on his cheeks, and god the  _ noises.  _ The sounds that should  _ never  _ come out of someone as innocent as Peter’s mouth. Tony had never felt so helpless, watching his kid and knowing that  _ he  _ could do nothing to help him. 

Something inside him snapped. “What’s wrong with him?” he yelled, jumping to his feet. “Can’t you fix this?” His voice broke, and Tony’s whole being vibrated with frustration. Something dripped on his cheek, and he wiped at his eyes with his hand, rubbing his nose with force. 

Stephanie’s eyes narrowed, and she looked as if she were about to give it right back to him, but Dr. Eberhart interrupted. “Mr. Stark, we don’t know what’s going on. Do you know of any reason why medication wouldn’t work on him?”

“Why would I know-” Tony felt his heart drop from his chest. His ears rang, and his whole body felt like it was on fire. “His metabolism.”

Shock registered in Dr. Eberhart’s expression, before she repeated tentatively, “Pain medication might not work because of his metabolism.” 

She shook her head slightly, staring downward for a second. When she met Tony’s eyes again, her expression was pitiful. “We...we can’t know for sure now,” she continued slowly, “but his body could be metabolizing the painkillers too quickly. In the operating room we gave him a normal amount of anesthetic and he showed no signs of consciousness. That could be due to the amount being correct, or more likely he was unconscious the entire time without it. But looking at him now, that could explain why he woke up and why he’s in pain.”

His face whitened and his stomach was dangerously close to spilling out the contents of his dinner from the previous night. Peter had been in constant pain for hours and hours on end before falling into the coma. He had probably been in mental pain for  _ months  _ before that. The thought and the image of Peter having to be in more pain after everything he’d already gone through? If this didn’t end up in one of Tony’s flashbacks after this was all done then he would feel as though he won the lottery. 

“Mr. Stark? Mr. Stark?” Tony heard a muddy voice in the fog of his mind, and he blinked, attempting to focus in. “Are you alright? I need to ask you a question.”

“What?” he said through gritted teeth. 

“Is there anyone who might be an expert on medicating superheroes? While my team here is quite good, we’ve never had a case like this. Is there anyone you’d recommend that I could contact about medication?”

“Dr. Bruce Banner,” he said immediately. “He’s Peter’s doctor.” That was mostly true. After the events of homecoming, when Peter started coming to work in the shop with Tony, he also began getting looked at by Bruce after he would get banged up from patrolling. Bruce hadn’t started doing it on purpose, but Peter had arrived at the compound one night with his arm bent the wrong way and Bruce had just so happened to be walking by. The doctor had groaned for a second, before putting Peter’s arm in a sling and warning him not to patrol for three days. Since then, Bruce had been the one called. 

“Do you have a phone number?” Dr. Eberhart asked, pulling out a memo pad from her pocket. 

Tony gave it to her, somehow managing to give it fully despite Peter’s ever-increasing cries in the background. As soon as she nodded and went to the corner, picking up the hospital phone and pressing it to her ear, Tony was in the chair at Peter’s side, reaching out and grasping his kid’s hand. 

“I’m so sorry, kid,” he whispered, his heart completely shattered as Peter’s glassy eyes stayed fixed on the ceiling above him, his body trembling as he gave off broken sobs. “You’re going to be okay.” 

Tony sat there, clutching his kid’s hand as his body shook with fear, murmuring comforts to Peter as he tried to desperately hold onto that lie as long as he could. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: eating disorders; mentions of PTSD, self-harm, and panic attacks; trichotillomania (hair-pulling)
> 
> Note: I made a few changes to previous chapters to help make the story make more sense - I write a chapter and then post, and it’s been a while since I’ve read some of the previous chapters, so sorry! I’ll make a list here of the chapter and changes, in case you want to go back and read it quickly:
> 
> Ch 33 - last few paragraphs - I have Rhodey carrying peter instead  
> Ch 34 - middle italics section - same reason as ch 33
> 
> Wow!!! You guys are INSANE thank you so so much for all the love you're giving this!! I really appreciate you all so so much - I don't think I could have gotten nearly this far in the story without you guys, so thank you for everything. 
> 
> Hahahha what have I done. A quick note about the metabolizing medication - I saw a post by irondadheadcannons on tumblr about this, with accounts @losingmymindtonight and @parkrstark discussing this, so that idea was not my own! You can check out the full post here:  
> https://losingmymindtonight.tumblr.com/post/174061227545/hc-in-fics-there-are-times-when-peter-needs-a
> 
> I'm hoping to be back with another chapter before the end of the month (I'm hoping by Christmas, but we'll see)! Please leave a comment and/or kudos if you'd like, and I will see you all soon!


	36. Helpless

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: vomiting, detailed medical procedures

Tony wasn’t sure when Pepper had shown up. He didn’t even remember calling or texting her. Regardless, when she walked through the door to Peter’s room, clutching her purse under her arm and immediately joining Tony at Peter’s side, he couldn’t help but feel a tiny bit of relief at the fact that he didn’t have to try and soothe Peter alone anymore. 

Pepper’s eyes were wide as Tony explained as best he could in broken sentences what was going on. He desperately wished Dr. Eberhart could come back and explain in that scientific way, but she and Stephanie were both gone. He knew that the medical staff were way out of their element, but that didn’t stop the tightness in his chest every time that Peter moaned and cried, his face flushed and sweaty but the rest of him still so pale. 

He was trembling, his own clammy hand still clutching onto Peter’s. With every cry that came out of his kid, it was like another slap in the face. This was all  _ his  _ fault. He was the one to blame for being such a shitty parent. He fucked this up, just like he fucked up everything else in his life. And he-

“Tony, you have to keep it together.” 

Pepper’s voice was low in his ear, her breath tickling his hair. One of her hands rubbed his back while the other laid over his and Peter’s intertwined hands. She was right. She was always right. For just a moment, Tony blocked out the whimpers and cries that Peter was making, taking deep breaths to try and slow his heartbeat. It had been throbbing in his ears, and he knew that it was going too fast. 

“I’m sorry it took so long for me to get here.”

His eyes were back open in a flash as Bruce had appeared with Dr .Eberhart following close behind him. She must have been warned ahead of time of his appearance, or had already gotten her surprise out of her system because her face was carefully blank as she came to a stop at the end of Peter’s bed. Bruce’s eyes widened when he saw Peter thrashing, and Tony saw pity run through his friend’s eyes when he saw Tony and Pepper holding Peter’s left hand like a lifeline. But it was gone almost as quickly as it started, and he came over to Peter’s bed, kneeling down gently by his right side, a motion made awkward because of his large build.

“What-” Tony was immediately cut off by a quick nudge by Pepper. He closed his mouth, forcing it to remain shut as Bruce looked over Dr. Eberhart’s notes on her laptop and examined the various bags that were attached to Peter. Finally, he seemed to be done, standing up only to gesture to Dr. Eberhart and leave the room, Peter once again alone with Tony and Pepper. 

Every second that Bruce was out of the room, as Peter continued to grow more and more agitated had Tony boiling with stress and anxiety. By this point, Peter had been partially conscious for two hours. His eyes were still fixed on the ceiling above him, his brown hair was matted to his forehead, and he was violently shaking.

As soon as the door creaked open, Tony’s head shot up, and he had to stop himself from asking Bruce a hundred questions as he handed back Dr. Eberhart’s laptop to her and turned to face Tony and Pepper. His hopes immediately fell. Bruce looked downright depressed, his eyes pitiful as he winced at another cry from Peter. 

Bruce cleared his throat, before starting slowly, “When I first started helping Peter a few years ago, I had considered the possibility that he might metabolize medicine a lot faster than normal people. Thankfully there’s never really been a need for him to have any intense anesthetics until now, but that also comes with the downside that we’ve never had a chance to test that. This was actually something I was considering testing with him, but I never got the chance.”

Bruce looked down at the floor for a second, and Tony winced at the reminder of all the years he lost with Peter. He pushed that to the back of his mind. It wouldn’t help Peter to dwell on that now. Bruce continued, “There’s nothing that I could give Peter that would be perfectly safe, as we never got to test any medicines with his enhanced metabolism.”

“So there’s nothing you can do?” Tony exploded, his face heating up.

“I never said that,” Bruce said, at the same time that Dr. Eberhart said, “Let him finish.”

Tony felt Pepper’s hand that had been on his back come down to rest on his arm, and she gave it a small squeeze. He took a deep breath and nodded at Bruce. “Sorry.”

“There are a few options that we could try that aren’t tested on him, and there’s no guarantee that they will make this better or work at all. The first option, the one that’s the safest, would be to try increasing the nutrients that he’s getting. This could be used with the other option as well, but it could be possible that his body is metabolizing the medicine so quickly because it’s….it’s starved. Hopefully his metabolism would “focus” on the food instead if he gets more. There’s really no negative consequences of this, and I think that we should up this regardless. Now the other option-”

“May?” Tony had never whipped his head around so quickly. Because he knew that voice. Peter. Peter was finally awake for real and he was asking-

His heart dropped out of his chest. Peter’s eyes were still focused on the ceiling blankly. He had asked for May. May was dead. 

“Peter? Kid? This is Tony; can you hear me?” he asked, gripping Peter’s hand tightly. Nothing in Peter’s face changed. If possible, it seemed to contort more, and he let out a sob. His kid was mumbling “May” over and over again, other words intermingled that were too garbled to understand. There was water dripping down Tony’s cheeks, but he barely noticed. In his peripheral vision he could see Dr. Eberhart moving around the room, and could tell that Pepper was saying something to her. But everything was muddy; the only thing clear was Peter. 

“Tony!” Peter choked out, letting out a strangled cry. Tony felt like throwing up. His organs felt as though they were sinking deep into his stomach and he was so dizzy. Peter wasn’t getting calmer as time went on, and he started waking up more, the opposite seemed to be happening.

“Peter, I’m here!” Tony said with desperation. Peter was unresponsive, and he just kept on making those  _ awful  _ wailing sounds, but now, as if it couldn’t get any worse, he had started to incorporate Tony’s name. 

“Tony! Stop! Please!” Peter was hyperventilating, and his eyes were squeezed shut as thrashed around in his bed. Bruce had come over and was gently holding him down so he wouldn’t get tangled in all the tubes. 

“Bruce, what was the second option?” Tony asked, feeling his own breathing start to speed up as well.

“Tony, I-” 

“Please!” 

A grimace came across his green face, and although the Hulk was much stronger than the frail superhero thrashing beneath him, utter exhaustion was clear on the doctor’s face. “I can’t say that this will work,” he started, his grip still firm on Peter. “But we still have....we still have some of Cap’s medicine.”

Instantly Tony felt a pang in his chest that came with any association of his deceased friend, but it was immediately covered by the intense tightness that was suffocating him at the sight of his kid in this state. “Keep going.”

“They have similar behaving metabolisms. It’s possible that this could help. Unfortunately, Peter will have to be in pain for at least a little bit longer since we have to test it on some of his cells first, but we’re in the process of doing that right now.”

“How long?”

“At least a few hours. We can’t mess this up, Tony. I know what you’re going to say, but we can’t rush this. If Peter reacts badly to the medicine...I don’t know if we could reverse that.”

“He’s right,” Pepper said, her voice shaky. “We can’t put him at risk.”

“I…” He was choking. If this were himself, he wouldn’t bother with testing it beforehand, but he couldn’t risk that with someone this important to him. “I know. But what do we do until then?”   


Bruce’s eyebrows turned up with sympathy. “Just hold tight and soothe him as best you can for a bit longer.”   
  
“Stop!” Peter was gasping, writhing in the bed as Bruce apologetically stepped away, exiting the room to hopefully wherever they were dealing with Peter’s cells. 

Tony looked at Pepper and swallowed thickly as he let go of Peter’s hand and pressed firmly against his chest (after first making sure there weren’t any wounds there) to keep him against the bed. Having to hold Peter down was  _ so much  _ worse than just holding his hand. He could feel the shaky breaths coming from his chest, and it was just moments later that Dr. Eberhart was putting an oxygen mask over Peter’s mouth, while murmuring to Tony, “His levels are getting low since he’s hyperventilating. The nasogastric tube is going to create a bit of a seal issue, but hopefully this is just temporary. Trying to intubate him right now wouldn’t be a good idea.”

Peter’s eyes widened, and Tony wasn’t sure if his kid knew what was going on. Tony felt the teenager’s hands try to come up to his face, but Pepper quickly grabbed Peter’s right hand and Tony took his left. Peter started straining, and if hadn’t been so weak he would have easily broken free of their grips. 

Peter let out a long whine, still attempting to pull free from Tony and Pepper’s grips. “Shhh,” Pepper was saying, and Tony saw a few tears roll down her cheeks. “You’re okay, Peter.”   


Tony forced himself to speak. “Peter? Kid? It’s Tony. I’m here and you’re safe. You’re going to be okay.” 

For a moment, it looked as if talking to Peter was helping. He stopped thrashing around as forcefully, and for a single second he got still. But then his abdomen started spasming, and Tony knew what was coming even before Dr. Eberhart immediately removed the oxygen mask from Peter’s face and held a long bag to his mouth. Just before it started, Pepper and Tony were able to get Peter into a sitting position at the doctor’s instructions. 

This was so much worse than before. Peter was heaving into the bag, and suddenly there were more people coming into the room, and Tony and Pepper were forced to move away as nurses started surrounding Peter. The entire time, Tony’s body shook as Peter continued to gasp into the bag, his small frame convulsing. Dr. Eberhart murmured something quietly to the nurses and to Peter, and after Peter was still for a second, he started gagging again. Was he throwing up again? No, the bag was being held by one of the nurses. He frowned as he moved to his left, trying to see around the crowd of people. But when he finally got a glimpse of Peter, he almost wished the teenager had remained out of sight. 

Two nurses were gently holding Peter still at his shoulders, while a third held his head. Peter was trying to twist his head away, and he could hear the nurse trying to soothe Peter to stay still. Dr. Eberhart was pulling out the tube from Peter’s nose, and in one motion it was gone and she quickly took it out of Tony’s sight. As soon as the tube was out, the bag was held up to Peter’s face again, as he had immediately started heaving again. 

The extra nurses, all except two, seemed to leave the room as quickly as they arrived. As soon as it was clear, Tony made his way over to Peter, reclaiming his place back at his side. Dr. Eberhart promptly made her way over to them, and before Tony could explode, she quickly said, “Nasogastric tubes are a good way of providing nutrients, but they can also cause vomiting as you just saw. I’m not sure if this was a reaction to that, or to pain he’s in, but it’s better to just remove it immediately and try another nutrient source. You indicated that Peter doesn’t have issues with vomiting?”   


Tony looked over at Pepper for a moment, and the misery on her face was surely the same as his own. “We didn’t think so, but then again we didn’t know about any of his...conditions,” Pepper said, wringing her hands together in her lap. 

“True,” Dr. Eberhart affirmed, glancing at Peter with a slight frown. “He’ll need to be honest with all of us and Dr. Banner once he’s improved and fully conscious so we can better treat him. That might be the hardest part.”

The doctor situated Peter with an IV that could still give him nutrients until they could safely insert another feeding tube surgically, and then headed for the door. Tony didn’t acknowledge her as she excused herself from the room to check on the status of Bruce’s treatment. There was so much that he didn’t know about the past few months of his kid’s life, and based on everything he was learning now, he knew it hadn’t been pleasant. He just hoped that the damage done could still be reversed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy moly...I...I'm literally speechless you guys. 25,000 hits??? Are you kidding me? It blows me away that there are so many of you reading this. Thank you all so so SO much for all the love you're giving this story - we're getting close to the end now, and I just can't believe you guys have stuck with me through over 100,000 words now (haha like what??) and my awful posting schedule. All the comments and kudos mean so much to me, so thank you:')
> 
> A quick note about removing the NS tube that was in Peter's nose - this is usually a pretty easy procedure based on my research, but since Peter wasn't able to sit still and was fighting, it would have been a much harder process. For anyone who has to get one of these in the future, I promise this is overdramatized!
> 
> I don't know what I was planning for this chapter, but it quickly became PAIN 2.0 so I apologize - I promise things will start to look up soon:) Thank you so much for reading! I hope you guys had a nice holiday, if you celebrated anything, and I'll see y'all in 2021:)


	37. Treatment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The only TW I can think of is any hospital related ordeals (like IVs)

“How much longer until Bruce is done?” Tony murmured to Pepper through gritted teeth. Hours had passed since the scientist had left, and the pain did not seem to be dulling with time for Peter. Even though his cries were softer, Tony could tell it was because his kid was losing his voice. Dr. Eberhart had been in and out of the room, but a few of her nurses seemed to be permanent additions to the room at this point, helping Peter sit up and lay back down when throwing up. Thankfully, the puking seemed to be done for now at least, as he hadn’t done it in over an hour, but Tony was still glad the nurses remained just in case. 

“He won’t be much longer now,” Pepper whispered back, before going back to murmuring soft phrases of comfort to Peter again. 

Tony grimaced, shifting in his seat and tapping his foot on the ground, but didn’t dare let go of Peter’s hand. It was his tether to his kid, and as long as he could feel that Peter’s hand was warm, it was as if there was a little hope for him to be okay. 

“Tony! Make it stop!” Peter whimpered, and Tony’s heart shattered all over again.

Suddenly, just sitting there holding Peter’s hand wasn’t enough. It already hadn’t been enough, but now Tony felt something snap in his chest, and then he was talking to Peter quietly, and the nurses and Pepper were gone. If he closed his eyes (though he wouldn’t dare to) he could imagine that he was sitting next to Peter in his lab.

“Peter, did I ever tell you about when I was ten and my mom took me to Italy? You see, the reason it was so amazing was that my dad didn’t join us. He had a work conference, and my mom, instead of passing me off to the nanny for a week, decided to take me to Italy instead.” 

Tony gulped, very aware that Peter’s whines weren’t as loud, and although he could still tell he was in a lot of pain, it was as if he were focusing. It didn’t matter if Peter understood a single thing that Tony said. If he could distract the kid for a second then he would keep talking no matter what. 

“Once we got there, she smiled at me, asking me what I wanted to do first in Liguria, which is in the northern region. I saw the big blue sea, and asked Mom ‘Can I swim?’ and she nodded, and I felt this expansive joy, a joy that I hadn’t felt in years, not since my dad…” 

Tony cleared his throat, sniffing, and he felt Pepper’s hand come up to his shoulder. “Anyway, I had never been able to swim in New York, not in the ocean. Sure, we had been all over the world, but my dad had always come along and it was usually for business. Or, on the few vacations not related to work that we went on, he would find some way to make it about him, or would be so drunk that they always left a sour feeling in my mouth. But with this one vacation with my mom he wasn’t there to taint it. So as soon as we got to the hotel, we headed to the beach. The water…Pete, the water was this beautiful blue, the bluest water I had ever seen. And my mom and I didn’t hesitate to run right in. That was something I always loved about my mom. She never was afraid to go on adventures with me, not when it was just the two of us.

“The rest of the trip, between eating at different restaurants and museums, we’d go into the ocean, into the bright blue expanse. It never got old, and I remember almost crying when I had to leave. I wish I would have been able to thank my mom again for that vacation before she died. I don’t-”

“Tony! We got it!” Tony practically jumped out of his skin when he heard his voice being called. He turned quickly towards the voice, drawn out of his trance immediately. Bruce was walking towards him, his eyes wide and a slight grin on his face. Dr. Eberhart was following close behind, wheeling an IV pole in front of her. The nurses next to Peter went to talk to her immediately, and within a minute they were pulling the pole from her and situating it next to Peter. 

“Cap’s medicine works?” Pepper asked with raised eyebrows. 

“It at least doesn’t react negatively to his cells. I can’t say whether or not it will help, but it shouldn’t harm him,” Bruce responded. Something tiny fluttered inside Tony’s chest, something he hadn’t felt this strongly in days: hope. 

“Mr. Stark, do I have your consent-” 

“Yes! Put it in already!” Tony said, and Dr. Eberhart gave him a small smile, nodding once. 

Tony and Pepper let go of Peter’s hand, grasping onto each other instead. Tony knew he was squeezing incredibly hard, but he could feel Pepper squeezing back, her own grip rivaling his. He felt his breath catch in his chest when the IV was put into Peter’s neck into the catheter there. He winced, but knew that this would help get the medicine through Peter’s body quickly.

Dr. Eberhart and the nurses stepped away, and Tony held his breath as clear medicine began flowing from the bag into Peter. There was no change at first, but after a second Peter’s tense body slowly started to relax and his whimpers got softer. Then his eyelids relaxed and the heart monitor’s beats slowed, and he knew that Peter had _finally_ fallen asleep. 

Pepper’s shoulders next to him drooped with relief as Dr. Eberhart said, “I think it’s safe to say that for now it’s working.”

Bruce brought his hand up to his face and rubbed at his chin. “I’m going to go and see about getting more. If Peter works too fast though this concentration, I can adjust it slightly.”

“We don’t need him on any other antibiotics now, correct?” Dr. Eberhart asked, looking at Bruce. 

“Yes. This medicine has some powerful sedatives in it which is helping Peter rest, but it also has antibiotics in it that should be effective. Any other medicine he’s on is unnecessary.”

“Yes. So we’ll continue with the increased nutrition and fluids and check in periodically.”

“Sounds good, Dr. Eberhart. I’ll contact you…”

Tony found himself blocking out the rest of Bruce and the doctor’s conversation and instead let his attention focus on watching Peter. He took a deep breath, letting it release slowly as he attempted to allow some of the tension in his body to leave. Peter was so frail and pale, but the reassurance of his warm hand now in Tony’s again, and the fact that he finally had medicine was keeping Tony from losing it. 

“Tony? I think that one of us should go back home to check on Morgan for a bit.”

He shook his head slightly. The room was dim now, although he didn’t recall much time passing. He glanced over at the clock: _8:05._ At least a few hours must’ve passed since Bruce left. And Peter hadn’t moved since then. 

“Yeah of course. I didn’t realize so much time had passed.”

“You must have been lost in thought then,” Pepper said softly, giving Tony a quick smile. “I can go.”

“Are you-”

“Yes. I can even call you to tell Morgan goodnight if you’d like. But I know you, Tony. As much as I want to stay, you need to be here with Peter more.”

“Thank you,” Tony said, another rush of appreciation for his wife pulsing through him.

“We can switch tomorrow morning?” Pepper asked, leaning over and kissing Tony on the lips quickly before standing up.

“Yeah. Bye Pep.” He forced his mouth into a smile and turned his attention back to Peter.

“Tony?’

“Yeah?” Pepper was standing next to the door, her purse clutched under her arm. An unrecognizable look came to her face.

“Nothing. Just...I think you should tell that story to Peter again once he’s fully conscious.”

“Why?” he asked, his eyebrows scrunching.  
“I don’t know,” she replied, her mouth quirking up. Tony could tell she wasn’t giving him her full reasoning, but he just shook his head a little and turned back to Peter.

“Okay."

“Bye Tony. I love you.”

“Love you too.”

The room was quiet, aside from the monitors rhythmically beeping. Tony fully intended to stay awake the whole night, just to make sure that nothing happened to Peter while he was asleep, but after a few hours of staring at his kid’s sleeping form, he found himself leaning forward against the bed, closing his eyes as the machines lulled him to sleep.

***

Everything was almost fuzzy around the edges of his vision. There were voices hovering above him, but it was like he was submerged underwater. Peter had never felt so...light before. Usually the bright lights above him and the loud sounds would cause him to wince, but everything was faded and dull. 

Where was he anyway? There was a mild tugging sensation in his neck. And the rest of his body seemed to ache, like the dullness was covering something far worse. He attempted to shift his weight, to lift his arm and figure out what was going on with his neck, but his limbs felt like jelly. 

His head was one of the places that the ache was most apparent along with his stomach. If he could just reach up and brush it, maybe it would go away. 

“I know you’re uncomfortable. But you have to keep still, kiddo.” That voice was familiar somehow. It was a man, definitely. Could it be Ben? But he never called Peter kiddo.

He felt like he was almost at the edge of grasping who it might be, when he felt sleep pulling at his vision again, and he let it go, determined to eventually figure out who that was.

***

The tugging sensation was back, but this time it was in his stomach even more than his neck. Peter tried to squirm slightly, but this time he felt a hand on the center of his chest, and the voice was back again, murmuring to him that he had to keep still again. He was trying, he honestly was, but the deep ache was back, and while it didn’t hurt, if he could just move then he was sure it would go away. 

The man (who was most definitely not Ben, as Ben didn’t sound like him from what Peter remembered) murmured something about “nutrients” and “keep it in.” The fogginess wasn’t any better from what Peter remembered being the last time he woke up, but he just tried to nod to let the man know he understood. At this point, all he wanted to do was sleep, but he didn’t want to let the man down. 

“Okay,” he muttered, and if the man replied, he didn’t hear as sleep had come once again. 

***

“Tony?” Tony whipped his head up towards the only other person in the room besides for him. Peter was opening his eyes and for the first time since Tony had brought the kid to the hospital, his eyes had a little clearness to them.

“Hey Pete,” Tony said, and as soon as he set down the Starkpad on the chair next to him, he dragged his chair as close to the bed as possible and reached his hand out. He hesitated, before setting it on the bed next to Peters. “How are you feeling?”

The teenager blinked slowly before furrowing his eyebrows. “Tired.”

“I bet. Does anything hurt?”

Peter shook his head slightly, and although he was fighting to keep his eyes open, Tony could tell Peter was already half-asleep again. 

“You can go back to sleep, Peter. Don’t worry. I’m here.”

His kid nodded, and his features smoothed over and his eyes slid shut again. Tony quietly moved his chair back so he wouldn’t be blocking any of the monitors for the nurses, before studying Peter’s sleeping face. It had been four days since the medicine had started, and Peter had woken up a handful of times, and this had been the first time that Peter had seemed to not be completely out of it. 

He and Pepper had been trading off who would stay with Peter, but he knew she was letting him be with Peter more often. And he appreciated that. This way he could keep an eye on his kid. He had already failed Peter so many times. He couldn’t do it again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! If you can't tell, I'm really attempting to get this plot rolling:) Peter finally is getting better physically! Yay!!! (haha just you wait for his mental state: ) ) I had to do a lot of looking things up for this, so as always, let me know if there's something inaccurate about my medical knowledge! Anyway, leave a comment and/or kudos if you'd like, and I'll see ya soon!!


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